


Something Always Survives

by asroarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dark, Eventual Smut, F/M, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Mentions of Suicide, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Bellamy, POV Clarke, Panic Attacks, Prisoners, Slow Burn, almost a modern Mt. Weather AU, loosely inspired by the OA, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 74,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12348543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/pseuds/asroarke
Summary: Bellamy had been trapped in this place for over two years. He can’t even count how many cellmates he lost over that time, how many times he had to meet a new voice from a person he would never see… And, almost every time, he found himself telling them a story to help calm them down, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it would never be okay. Clarke had been no different than the others until this moment.She was the first one to ever try to comfort him in return. So, he whispered, “Okay,” and pressed his ear to the corner.Modern AU loosely inspired by The OA where Clarke finds herself abducted and caged with four strangers as they all struggle to make sense of their captor's experiments.





	1. Pandora's Box

**Author's Note:**

> "Loosely" is the key word I want to emphasize here lol. I came up with this fic idea while watching The OA, but like most of my fics that are inspired by tv shows, it's going to deviate A LOT. Especially with this one, because every time I rewatch the OA, I realize that I don't actually know what's going on... and probably never will. Plus, this fic is heavily influenced by the horror movies I've been watching for Halloween, along with the fact that I just reread Frankenstein and Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
> 
> That being said, I'm a huge scaredy cat, so I don't foresee this becoming a "scary" fic, or else I'm not sleeping this month. But, it will be very VERY dark. Easily the darkest thing I've ever written. It's not going to be as plot intensive as some of my past fics (Wrecked and Double Infinity), and the timeline is going to be ambiguous since the characters aren't going to have a real sense of time. But, it's going to be Bellarke heavy, especially with the feels. 
> 
> I may have to up the rating in later chapters, but I will warn you in the notes when I make this change in case you miss it. Tbh, I have no idea how to tag this fic. It's gonna be a weird ride, you guys. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

The most cathartic experience Clarke had ever had was when she threw her phone into a lake.

It had been ringing for _hours_. First, it was her mom, over and over, even after Clarke had switched buses. Occasionally, Marcus would call… but, it was clear that her mother was given the task of trying to get ahold of her, while Marcus tried to convince his friends at the department that Clarke was in trouble.

Of course, they wouldn’t start helping him for a while. After all, Clarke waited until her eighteenth birthday for this very purpose.  And, she was already halfway across the country.

She wished she was surprised that Finn wasn’t one of the phone calls, but she wasn’t. Although, it would have been nice if he had called… not that she would have answered. A few of her friends called throughout the day, but they were less persistent than her mother. Clarke figured they knew what Clarke was trying to do. It wasn’t like the signs weren’t there.

The realization that her phone could be tracked didn’t occur to Clarke until she stepped off the bus. So, she immediately headed toward the first body of water she could find, and quickly hurled her phone toward the water… watching the water ripple as her last connection to her family plummeted toward the lake’s floor.

She let out a sigh once she sat back down at the bus station. It was a rainy day, and there was no one who was paying any extra attention to her… which was a relief. In the past few years, Clarke had garnered a lot of unwanted attention from people who only saw her father when they looked at her. It was nice to be in a part of the country where no one recognized her from the newspaper photos.

Clarke pressed her forehead to the glass of the window once she took her seat on the next bus, just feeling lucky that no one decided to sit next to her this time. She only had a few more hours until she reached Mt. Weather, and then she could find somewhere to rest for the night.

She tried to sleep on the bus… but, every time she got a bit sleepy, her mind would start to panic… not letting her relax for even a second. She was too busy coming up with different ways for her traitorous mother to find her or how Clarke could have slipped up as she crept out last night.

It was hard enough staying in Alpha Station before she found out it was her mother who turned in her father. But now, ending up back there was her waking nightmare.

 

Apparently, her exhaustion finally kicked in, because Clarke found herself being woken up by the bus driver, letting her know that she was finally in Mt. Weather. Clarke blinked a few times, as she grabbed her backpack. She glanced out the window, noting that it was raining here too and that it was dark out. She let out a sigh as she stepped off the bus, immediately surveying the surrounding area for potential places to eat or sleep.

She settled on a diner, since it looked like hardly anyone was there. She seated herself in the back, stretching her legs out to prop them up on the booth seat across from her. When the waitress came over to fill up her coffee mug, Clarke felt an itchiness on her arm. She pushed up her hoodie sleeve, seeing the band-aid on her forearm start to peel off.

“You don’t have a band-aid by any chance?” Clarke asked, and the woman nodded, before dismissing herself to go grab one. Clarke scowled as she examined her newest scrape, that she got from climbing out of her window in the dark the night before. She swallowed, not liking just how dark it was. Her mother always warned her about keeping scrapes and cuts covered up, especially since Clarke’s wounds didn’t look like other people’s.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she heard a man’s voice ask, and Clarke flinched as she pushed her sleeve down. She glanced up to see a pale man with dark brown hair examining her from the counter.

“Just a scrape,” Clarke blew him off, as the waitress came back and handed her a band-aid. Clarke angled herself slightly so the man at the counter wouldn’t get another look at her black wound that should have been dark red.

“I am a doctor. I could take a look,” the man said suddenly, and Clarke glanced up to see that he had moved over to her booth. She swallowed, as she pushed her sleeve back down.

“It’s really not a big deal,” she insisted, as he propped his elbows up on the table and narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked, and it was becoming abundantly clear that Clarke was never going to escape nosy people.

“Just passing through,” she replied as kindly as she could, as the waitress came back with her pancakes.

“Well, there are a few hotels I would recommend. I would stay away from the Motel 8, but everything else on this street is pretty safe and inexpensive,” he said, watching her with interest as she took her first bite of her pancake. “My name is Cage, by the way.”

“What is a doctor doing hanging out at an empty diner at this time of night?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Something about this guy was rubbing her the wrong way, and she was never a fan of strangers coming up to her and talking as if they were friends. No one made conversation just to make conversation. There was always an angle… and she could only assume his was bad.

“Just got off a late shift at the hospital and this was the only place open,” he shrugged, and Clarke nodded, keeping her eyes on her food. She could feel him studying her face closely, and she was just waiting for the waitress to come back and help her find an excuse to get away from this guy.

Then, there was a loud crash in the kitchen, causing Clarke to jump as she stared in that direction. The waitress who was about to head back over toward Clarke, started sprinting into the back, as the cook let out a long slew of curse words. Clarke noticed that the handful of other customers seemed just as perturbed as her.

She let out a huff, before taking another sip of her coffee, and she finally let herself look Cage up and down. He was in scrubs underneath his coat, and he looked about as tired as Clarke felt. He was probably telling the truth about just getting off work.

“I’ll let you get back to your dinner,” he finally said, as he slid out of the booth. Clarke let out a sigh, as she propped her feet back up. She would have felt better if he had left the diner, but he just went back to his spot at the counter. She chose to ignore it. He was just like every other creepy guy she had encountered in her life, and wasn’t going to waste her energy on stressing out about him.

She kept working on her pancakes, as the waitress brought her an extra side of bacon. Clarke tried not to think about what kind of dinner she would have been having tonight if she had stayed home, about what her mother probably had planned for her birthday. Instead, she focused on eating as much as she could, not sure what tomorrow would bring her.

She paid in cash at the front, bracing both her hands on the counter because Clarke was suddenly not feeling too great. She was getting dizzy, as she threw the change into the top pocket of her backpack.

“You okay?” the waitress asked, putting her hand on Clarke’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Clarke dismissed her, as she nearly ran out of the diner.

It was still raining when she got outside, and she hadn’t been thinking enough to put her hood on before she stepped out. She took a few steps, before it was clear that something was horribly wrong. She could feel her legs start to give out on her, as Clarke prepared herself for the feeling of hitting the pavement.

But, she never did. Someone caught her.

“I’ve got you, Clarke,” the man said, as he picked her up in his arms. Clarke tried to keep her eyes open, as her blurry vision started to recognize the doctor from the diner. She tried to speak, tried to point out that she never told him her name, tried to tell him to put her down. But, she never got the chance before all she saw was darkness.

 

Clarke awoke to a similar darkness. She sat up from the small bed she found herself lying on, glancing around her. She put her hand on the wall closest to her, and it felt ice cold… like it was glass. Clarke swallowed for a moment, realizing that the black walls felt like they were made of glass.

The more horrifying realization was that there didn’t seem to be a door. Clarke shot up, still a little bit wobbly. She ran her hands all over the walls, trying to find where the door might be hidden. She stumbled past a toilet and a machine that she didn’t recognize, as she traced her hands all over the walls.

She sucked in a breath when she realized there was no door… at least, not one that she could find. She closed her eyes, trying to remember how she got there… but nothing came to mind. She remembered the diner, she remembered not feeling well… she remembered Cage.

She sank to the floor, hands shaking, as she pressed her back to the cool, dark wall. He must have drugged her.

“I think our new friend is awake,” she heard a woman’s voice say… almost as if she was in the same room as Clarke. But, she couldn’t be. Clarke was all alone in this black room.

“Are we sure Cage even brought someone in? They’re not screaming yet,” a man’s voice said, and Clarke shakily pushed herself to stand up.

“Can you two stop?” another man growled, this one’s voice sounding like it was to Clarke’s right. She turned slightly, examining her wall. If this was some kind of cage, maybe others were locked up beside her.

“Who is there?” Clarke asked weakly, stepping closer to the most recent voice she heard.

“See? I told you she was awake,” the woman’s voice said, coming from in front of where Clarke was looking. Clarke glanced up, seeing a ceiling just as dark as her walls, but with a few holes to let the light in.

“Alright, missy, let’s just walk you through this,” a man’s voice said, coming from the same direction as the woman’s. “This is not a dream. You are very much awake right now.” Clarke felt chills go up and down her body, and she feared that she would faint at this very moment. “You’re trapped. Don’t know if you willingly walked into this or if you’ve been abducted, but the end result was the same. You are in a cage, and you will probably die here.”

“Murphy, that is enough!” a new man’s voice said, this time coming from Clarke’s left wall. “You’re terrifying the poor girl.”

“Please, it’s not like she’s screaming like the last one. She’s fine,” the voice she now knew as Murphy replied.

“Hey, my name is Wells,” the voice coming from Clarke’s left said, almost like he was whispering. “Everything is going to be okay.” Clarke put her hands over her head, taking a deep breath like her dad taught her too. She wasn’t even sure if these voices were real, or if this was just some kind of trick. But, she counted four different voices, three males, one female.

“Don’t lie to her,” the woman growled, and Clarke felt her breathing start to get out of control.

“You’re gonna have a hard time sleeping for a while. You’re gonna go through everything that led you to this place, trying to find someone to blame other than yourself. Let me save you the trouble. It’s no one’s fault but your own,” Murphy’s voice snapped, and Clarke’s entire day started flashing through her head: her escape from her house, the way she threw her phone away long before Mt. Weather, her encounter at the diner with Cage… If he was really who did this to her, this Murphy person was right. This was Clarke’s fault.

Her sob broke out, as she pressed her back to the right wall, tuning out Murphy and Wells yelling at each other. She sat on the ground, burying her face into her knees. She wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging her legs tightly.

“I’m not going to give her false hope. The sooner she realizes she’s fucked, the quicker we get her initial panic attack out of the way,” Murphy snapped.

“That’s not how you approach people,” Wells replied. So far, Wells was Clarke’s favorite voice here… even though it could all be in her head.

“It worked for me,” the woman said in response, as Clarke wiped her tears with her sleeve. She then rolled up her sleeve, noticing that this arm had a band-aid on it, despite it not being the one that she scraped earlier. She swallowed, as she lifted it up… noticing that it looked like someone drew her blood while she was unconscious.

“See? And Echo turned out just fine,” Murphy growled.

“She screams in her sleep. Let’s not call her fine,” the fourth voice said, sounding even closer to Clarke than the other ones. He must share a wall with her.

“I do not!” Echo yelled, and she could hear echoes of laughter coming from the other side of Clarke’s little cell.

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room, as she glanced over at the bed she just woke up on. The sheets were bright white, which shone brightly in the dark room.

“How about we just wait patiently for this girl to adjust to the situation before bombarding her with all of this,” Wells said, sounding frustrated.

“Are these voices real?” Clarke whispered quietly, and, based on how Murphy and Wells continued to bicker, she figured no one heard her.

“Yes,” she heard the fourth voice whisper back, so quietly that Clarke barely heard him. She glanced around the wall, as she slid down it toward the corner, realizing that would be where she could hear him the best.

“How long have you been here?” she whispered, resting her forehead on the cool wall.

“What year is it?” he asked, and Clarke’s chest started to tighten.

“2017,” she answered, feeling the tears start to form in her eyes again.

“Then, a little over two years.”

Clarke sucked in a breath, hardly able to focus on what the other three voices were arguing about. She was too busy panicking that the man next to her had been trapped for more than two years… that Clarke could be here just as long, provided she kept living.

“What is your name?” he asked, his voice sounding sad… much sadder than the other voices.

“Clarke.”

“And how old are you, Clarke?” he followed up, and now Echo was screaming at Murphy, who was just laughing in response.

“I just turned eighteen today,” she answered.

“Well, happy birthday, I guess,” he muttered, and Clarke let out an unexpected laugh. Happy birthday, indeed.

“At least I didn’t come here willingly!” Wells shouted, which snapped Clarke out of her little conversation with the mystery man on the other side of the wall.

“Like it fucking matters how you got here. No one leaves this place alive, anyways,” Echo growled, and Clarke’s breathing became shallower.

She didn’t know why she was here, or who these people were. For all she knew, they could all be messing with her head. It’s not like she could see any of them. She didn’t know what made Cage abduct her, if it was just because she was a girl who was alone or if there was something specific about her that made her a target.

Whatever it was… it really didn’t matter now. She was trapped here, and from what she could tell, there was no escape for whatever fate awaited her.

“Clarke, I need you to breathe for me,” the fourth voice whispered, and Clarke realized that she had started hyperventilating. She adjusted herself so that her back was to the wall again, resting her head on the adjacent wall, keeping her ear by the corner to hear his voice.

“I’m trying,” she said breathlessly, as she sucked in another breath.

“Put your hands on top of your head,” he said, and Clarke tried her best to ignore Murphy’s commentary. She closed her eyes, before placing both hands on top of her head.

“Okay.”

“Just listen to me, okay? You are going to be alright. You just have to stay calm,” he warned, and Clarke could hear groaning from someone else… she assumed Murphy. She focused on breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. It was what her father trained her to do all those years ago when she kept having panic attacks after her accident.

“God, if he’s going to do this again, I’m going back to sleep,” Echo muttered, and Clarke heard the sound of a bed squeaking.

“Don’t listen to them. Just listen to me,” the voice said, and for some reason, his voice was soothing enough for her to actually listen.

“He wouldn’t have had to do this if you hadn’t worked her up into a panic attack,” she heard Wells whisper, probably to Murphy.

“He shouldn’t be doing it at all. She has to learn how to comfort herself,” Murphy snapped.

“Clarke, what is your favorite color?” the voice asked, snapping Clarke out of paying attention to the other conversation echoing throughout her cell.

“Yellow. Like the sun,” she replied, before sucking in another breath.

“Mine is blue, like the sky,” he whispered, and Clarke nodded, even though there was no way for him to see her. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Um, I like to paint,” she muttered, feeling her breathing start to slow down. “What about you?” Clarke asked, feeling weird asking that of someone who has spent at least two years in this prison.

“I like to read. I like stories and history. That kind of thing,” he replied, and Clarke could feel a beautiful warmth in his voice as he spoke about this. “Would you like to hear a story? That used to help calm down my sister when she would get upset.”

Clarke nodded, before remembering that he couldn’t actually see her. She tried not to wonder too much about when the last time he saw another person was. “Yes, please,” she pleaded, because his voice was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment.

“Hmm,” she heard him utter, probably trying to come with something to distract her. Clarke really didn’t care what he said. She just needed to hear his voice. “Are you familiar with the story of Prometheus and Pandora’s box?”

“Vaguely, yeah,” she replied, thinking back to her freshman year history course.

“Well, in case you need a refresher, Zeus was kind of a petty asshole who liked to get back at those who wronged him. So, Zeus sent Pandora to earth as a present to Epimetheus, who was Prometheus’ brother. And, Pandora’s box was also gifted to them. But, there was a lock on it, and the key was given to Epimetheus.” Clarke snorted at his referring to it as a present. “And he was insistent that they never open the box.”

“But, Pandora couldn’t help herself,” Clarke joined in, and she heard him chuckle slightly.

“No, she couldn’t. She broke the seal while Epimetheus was asleep. And, all Hell broke loose. She released all kinds of sickness, and crime, and envy, and hatred. But, amidst all the Hell she had just unleashed into her world, there was one beautiful thing in that box.”

Clarke swallowed, as she racked her brain for what that was. To be honest, she never paid that much attention to Greek Mythology.

“Elpis, the goddess of hope,” he finished, and it was at this moment that Clarke noticed that her breathing had steadied. She wiped her remaining tears away with her sleeves, keeping her eyes closed as she listened to him take a breath.

He was quiet for a few moments, and Clarke reopened her eyes. She no longer heard Wells or Murphy. It was just her and the fourth voice, whispering in the corner of her cell.

“Clarke, I don’t know what choice you made to get here, but it wasn’t your fault. You had no idea what would be inside this particular box, and Hell has been thrust upon you,” he said, and Clarke’s eyes darted to the corner, trying to imagine the man on the other side of the wall talking to her. She didn’t understand why he was bothering to help her, when he had never met her before. “But, it won’t be all bad. There is some hope in this box too. Your Elpis will help you survive what is to come.”

Clarke swallowed, nodding slightly. She glanced back around her cell again, realizing for the first time that she had no idea what time of day it was… that she may not ever know what time it is again.

“What is your name?” Clarke asked weakly, as she rested her head against the corner, noticing that there was a plant in the other corner of the cell.

“Bellamy,” he whispered.

“Thank you, Bellamy,” she replied, as she gently closed her eyes again. She could still hear his faint breathing, as she continued to steady her own. She imagined that the others had all gone to sleep, or were just tired of arguing with each other. She waited to hear Bellamy move away from his corner, but he never did. She heard his breathing along with her own… and for a few moments, Clarke didn’t feel like she was alone in her dark cage.


	2. Mona Lisa

Echo’s screams woke Bellamy up again. He blinked a few times, patiently reminding himself not to groan. It wasn’t her fault.

“Echo,” Murphy groaned, and Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting up slightly. “Echo, wake up!” Bellamy could hear Echo’s quickened breathing, and hoped that was enough to get her to snap out of it.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of Echo’s panicked breathing, he heard her mutter some kind of apology. Bellamy rubbed his eyes as he glanced over at the wall that he and Echo shared.

It was no secret that Echo wasn’t his favorite person here. She had an attitude problem similar to Murphy’s and was only slightly more patient than he was when it came to the other prisoner’s problems. But, Bellamy was trapped with her for now. And, he was determined to try to help her, no matter how many times she turned him away.

Over the years that Bellamy had been trapped here, he had figured out that some parts of his cell were more private than others. He hadn’t seen the other cells in a while, but he figured out that they were all wrapped around some kind of generator in the center. Each cell was shaped like a trapezoid, with its side walls bordering two other cells. The corners at the top of the trapezoid were the loudest point, where all five people could hear what was being said there. The other two corners were quieter, where he could really only hear what could be heard on the other side of the wall.

So, he moved toward the quiet corner he shared with Echo, and sat down, pressing his ear to the corner. “You’re okay,” he reassured, and he heard her breath catch.

“Go back to sleep, Bellamy,” Echo growled quietly, and Bellamy heard Murphy let out a loud huff. It was a testament to Cage’s sick sense of humor that he made Echo and Murphy neighbors. Then again, Wells probably wouldn’t have survived being put in between Echo and Murphy. Bellamy wasn’t sure he could either.

“I will. I just want to make sure you’re alright,” he said, biting his tongue to make sure he didn’t say anything to agitate her further.

“Go away,” she snapped, and Bellamy pushed himself up, walking back over to his cot. Then, he realized that he didn’t hear Wells or Clarke stir. He swallowed… because both of them should have woken up to the sound of Echo’s screaming. He moved over toward the other quiet corner, pressing his ear where the two walls met.

“I highly doubt it,” he heard that Clarke girl whisper. It had only been hours since he first interacted with her… he guessed. Although, he had been wrong about how much time had passed before.

“There has to be someone looking for you. What about your parents?” Wells replied. Bellamy bit his lip, feeling a chill as he listened to an all too familiar conversation.

“My dad is dead and my mom thinks I ran away. She won’t find me,” Clarke muttered, and Bellamy’s chest started to ache. There was always a moment when new people were brought in where Bellamy allowed himself to hope that they were smarter than he was. That there was some way to trace them to here, and that they would all be released.

“Maybe a boyfriend?” Wells asked hopefully, and Bellamy wanted to shout at him that he should know better by now to build up the new prisoners’ expectations with these questions. Sure, hope was a necessary tool here… but only in small doses. Anything more and it could kill a person.

“He wouldn’t look for me,” Clarke answered quickly, and Bellamy’s mouth parted like he was going to say something. But, there was nothing he could say to fix the sad words that just flew off Clarke’s lips.

Bellamy had lost count of how many people had gone through Clarke’s cell. Usually, they started out with some hope… saying their parents would find them, or that their friends wouldn’t stop looking until they found them. Then, over the months… if they lived that long…. it would turn into concerns that their loved ones wouldn’t be able to find them.

But, Clarke jumped past all of that in a matter of hours, and said the bleakest thing he had heard from someone this new to imprisonment… that someone she cared about simply would not bother to look for her.

It scared him.

Clarke’s arrival had been unnerving to Bellamy for many reasons. The most important of which was that he knew that Cage had been out of town for a long time, which usually meant that he was hunting for a replacement for his most recently deceased lab rat. This Clarke girl would not have been easy for him to find… otherwise he would have been back much sooner.

The most horrifying moment of Bellamy’s night was when Clarke confirmed the year. It didn’t take him long to do the math, and realize the girl next to him is just a year older than Octavia.

“Well, I guess that means I’ve been here for about six months,” he heard Wells say exasperatedly, and Bellamy realized that he had zoned out of their conversation.

“And what kind of testing does he do?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy looked down at his hands, noticing more bruising than usual.

“I wish I knew. They usually knock us out for it. It’s only when they do psych exams that I remember afterwards,” Wells explained calmly, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered closed.

Clarke was silent for a while, as Wells gave her his potential hypotheses for what Cage and Lorelei were looking for, and Bellamy struggled to hold in his groan. There was no point in them trying to figure out what the doctors were up to… and Wells knew that just as much as the others.

“Is it always so cold in here?” Clarke finally asked, and Bellamy let out a sigh of relief. She was moving the conversation to something more manageable.

“You get used to it after a while. Did you at least bring warm clothing with you?” Wells replied.

“Yeah, I’ve got a sweater on and a jacket. It was pretty cold in Mt. Weather, but not cold enough for the rain to freeze,” she explained. “Hey, you don’t have to stay up with me. It sounds like Echo is better. You can go back to sleep.”

“Eh, I can sleep whenever. Not like I have somewhere to be tomorrow,” Wells joked badly, and Bellamy couldn’t believe the sweet laugh that came out of the girl. It was such a beautiful sound… something he hadn’t heard in a long time.

It wasn’t like they didn’t joke around in the cell. They had to. A sense of humor was kind of necessary when you didn’t have any idea if you would live or die. But, the laughter was always dark, tainted with sarcasm and flippant jokes about death. But, Clarke’s laugh sounded so genuine.

“So, this is basically a sleepover, except I can’t ever leave and have no idea what any of you look like, right?” she joked, and Bellamy accidentally snorted.

“The worst sleepover ever, yeah,” Wells quipped, and Bellamy found himself smirking at this conversation. “So, what’s your story, Clarke?”

She sat in silence for a few moments, and Bellamy found himself resting his ear even closer to the corner, tilting his head so it could comfortably rest there. “Well, most recently I’ve become an eighteen-year-old high school drop-out turned kidnapping victim, so that’s interesting,” she finally said, and Bellamy could faintly hear Wells snort in response. “Um, my dad died a while back while he was in prison. But, that’s about it.”

“There’s more to your story than just the bad shit that happens to you,” Wells replied quickly, and Bellamy found himself nodding along. Clarke must have been pondering this for a few moments, as the two of them remained silent. Bellamy let out a sigh, closing his eyes, but keeping his ears attentive.

“I like to paint. Always have. I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can remember,” she explained, and he heard Wells mumble something unintelligible in response. “I probably would have done better in school if I had put down my pencil and stopped doodling. But, I always found myself inspired in class, drawing entire stories in the margins of my notes.”

“So, you’re an artist?”

“I wanted to be. My mom always pushed me away from it, but I kept coming back to it time after time. Like, there were times where I thought I could just let it be a hobby, but then I’d constantly get this ache to draw or paint again. My ideas would just rattle around in my brain and wouldn’t leave me alone until I got them down onto paper. I don’t know how to explain it,” she replied with such fondness in her voice. It was a warmth that was all too rare here in Hell. He occasionally heard it when Murphy would make a comment about his girl back home, or when he heard Wells talk about his favorite books, describing the plot in detail for the others to distract them for a while. Art was what Clarke _loved_ and he could hear it in her voice. He didn’t have to see her face to hear her smile. At least now he knew what her smile sounded like.

“What’s that noise?” he heard Clarke ask, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open. He had been too focused on listening to Clarke that he missed the gas starting in his own cell.

“It’s probably nothing,” Wells lied, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. He was thankful that Wells didn’t tell her right away. She sounded so calm right now, and she had plenty of time to learn about the horrors of Hell. There was no reason to frighten her anymore tonight. She didn’t need to know what it meant when Cage came for one of them. “So, what is your favorite thing to paint?” Wells changed the subject, and Bellamy pressed his ear closer to the corner.

“The sky, I guess. I don’t know. It’s constantly changing. It’s never the same subject,” she said, speaking with the same warmth as before. Bellamy covered his nose and mouth with his jacket sleeve, trying to focus on the sound of Clarke’s voice. “Sometimes it’s perfectly clear, other times it’s stormy. I don’t know. I just think of it like painting a person. There are so many different sides to everyone, giving me endless ways to paint them.” Bellamy could feel his entire body start to go numb, as the gas snuck its way into his lungs.

“I’ve never really thought of it that way.”

“Yeah, like I read stuff about artists who repaint the same thing over and over again, with minimal changes over time. But, every time I paint the sky, it’s completely different. Every second it’s changing. You never see the same sky twice,” was the last thing he heard her say before he slipped back into darkness.

 

Bellamy woke up in Lorelei Tsing’s office, and immediately let out a relieved sigh.

“Bellamy, how has your appetite been lately?” she asked, not even looking up from her clipboard. Bellamy tried to lift his hand, before remembering that he was restrained. He let out a huff, leaning back on the chair.

“It’s been fine,” he muttered, still blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“You’ve been eating less,” she pointed out, tapping her pen on her chart. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her, not that she noticed. “I’m concerned that your depression is coming back.”

“I hear captivity can do that to a person,” he quipped, and her eyes finally flickered up to meet his, looking unimpressed with his sarcasm.

“You’ve been getting a good amount of exercise from what I’ve seen,” she said, apparently not wanting to engage with him this time around. He snorted at the idea that he was getting exercise. All he was doing was walking the perimeter of his cell and doing pushups when bored. But, he decided not to start this argument with her again. It’s not like it got him anywhere.

“Where’s Dr. Wallace?” Bellamy asked, glancing around the office. Cage had recently been taking over more of Bellamy’s little sessions. He wasn’t complaining that he got Lorelei this time by any means. In fact, he preferred her. She had a soft spot for Bellamy, whereas Cage was just cruel.

“He has to go pick up some more files about our new addition,” she muttered, circling something on her clipboard.

“You mean Clarke?” Bellamy asked, and he could see Tsing’s lips twitch a little bit at her name.

Bellamy had no sympathy for Cage or Lorelei. They were monsters who were keeping all of them hostage without even explaining why. But, he knew that there was a part of Lorelei that knew this was all wrong. And, he liked to remind her at every opportunity that he was a person, along with everyone else in those cells.

“Yes, Miss Griffin,” she replied distantly, before glancing up at Bellamy. “How do you think she’s adjusting?” she asked.

“Better than Echo did,” he muttered, his wrist jerking slightly in its restraints. He was not exactly positioned comfortably. “She’s handling her death sentence as well as to be expected,” he growled, and Lorelei’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Wouldn’t call this a death sentence for her,” she muttered, and Bellamy’s eyes widened in confusion. She noticed his flustered look immediately, and let out a sigh, as she flung her clipboard onto her desk. “Look, Cage went to a lot of trouble to get her here. Don’t worry about her. Now, back to you,” she deflected, and Bellamy let out a huff. He wanted to know what she meant about the trouble Cage went to for Clarke. Or really any clue as to what made Clarke such a special target, so Bellamy could get some idea as to why he was here. “I’m willing to give you another week to see if your appetite comes back. I’d also like you to get more hours of sleep each night. But, if a week passes and you don’t get better, I’m putting you back on antidepressants.”

Bellamy swallowed, as he nodded in agreement… not that he had a vote in this. But, he liked to pretend he had some choice in how he lived here. He didn’t want antidepressants back in his system. They made him feel neutral… taking away any real emotion he had. It wasn’t that he wanted to feel sad or angry… but, feeling that was better than feeling nothing.

Then, Tsing shot him an apologetic look, and Bellamy knew that this wasn’t just a psych evaluation. He reluctantly sighed, as she approached him, carrying a pill. He opened his mouth compliantly, as she placed it onto his tongue. It only took minutes for him to fall unconscious again.

 

Bellamy woke up to the sound of Murphy’s snoring. He slowly sat up, groaning at this horrible pain in his side. He lifted up his shirt slightly, seeing a dark bruise over his ribs.

“Bellamy?” he heard Clarke whisper, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, pushing himself out of his bed. He needed to move to the back corner so he didn’t wake anyone else up.

“Where did you go?” she asked, and he could hear a slight shakiness to her voice. He swallowed, bracing his hand on their shared wall, as he caught his breath. Then, he slowly made his way to the corner, leaning his back on the wall.

“I had to go work with the doctors,” he explained vaguely, and he heard Clarke’s steps start to make their way to the back of her cell. She learned quickly.

“What does that mean?” she asked, and Bellamy bit his lip. He had hoped that the others would have filled her in while he was gone, since he was apparently out for at least twenty-four hours, only waking up briefly to talk with Tsing.

“I don’t know what it is that they’re looking for here, but sometimes they knock us out and perform tests,” he explained as calmly as he could, before he heard Clarke suck in a breath. He bit the inside of his mouth, as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, ignoring the screaming pain in his side.

“Did they hurt you?” she whispered, and he could hear her start to sit down too.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he lied, rubbing his thumb gently over his newest bruise.

“Why are you lying to me?” she asked, her voice not sounding judgmental or angry at all… just curious. He blinked a few times, as he glanced at the corner, imagining he was looking at her. She probably had wide eyes like Octavia did when she didn’t understand something, and he felt his heart pang at that thought.

“Okay, yes, I did get hurt,” he confessed, only to be met by silence… so, he kept talking. “Look, it’s not a serious injury, and I’ve been here for a long time. I just don’t want you worrying about me, especially since all of this is new and overwhelming to you.”

He started to worry that she was getting angry, especially as he could only hear the sound of her breathing. He knew that most people got mad when they found out that the others had been keeping information from them. But, flooding new victims with this information never ended well. Hell, Echo still screams in her sleep after all these months.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, her voice still sounding shaky. He could only imagine how frightened this girl was. Bellamy remembered how his first twenty-four hours went all too well… and he walked into this Hell willingly. He got the impression that Clarke did not.

“Of course,” he lied, and he heard her let out a sigh. Somehow, this girl had a pretty good lie detector.

“What can I do to help you?” she asked earnestly, and Bellamy blinked a few times, staring at the black wall. Was this girl for real? Did she not grasp that there was literally nothing she could do? She was trapped here, just like the rest of them.

“Nothing, Clarke,” he muttered, as he readjusted his back so he could get more comfortable.

“You sound like you’re in pain,” she whispered, and he let out a sigh, throwing his head up so he could stare at his dark ceiling. He always chuckled to himself when he glanced at the holes in the ceiling, thinking that it looked like a new constellation. He would frequently spend his nights trying to come up with a name for it, but never settling on anything that felt right. “I could tell you a story, like what you did for me.”

Bellamy blinked a few times, not sure he heard her correctly. “What?” he whispered, furrowing his brows in her direction.

“You distracted me from my panic attack with a story. I thought I could return the favor,” she replied simply, as if she didn’t understand the weight of what she was saying.

Bellamy had been trapped in this place for over two years. He can’t even count how many cellmates he lost over that time, how many times he had to meet a new voice from a person he would never see… And, almost every time, he found himself telling them a story to help calm them down, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it would never be okay. Clarke had been no different than the others until this moment.

She was the first one to ever try to comfort him in return.

So, he whispered, “Okay,” and pressed his ear to the corner.

“Bear with me. I’m not as good of a story teller as you are,” Clarke said with a slight chuckle, and Bellamy felt a small smile start to form on his lips. “Have you ever heard of a man named Vincenzo Peruggia?” she asked.

“Nope,” he replied, excited to hear a story he hadn’t heard before.

“He is the most famous art thief in history, Bellamy,” she said excitedly, and Bellamy could hear her smile again. “He stole the Mona Lisa back in 1911, I think,” she continued, her voice drifted off slightly as she thought through this. “Allegedly, he did this for patriotic reasons, saying that Napoleon stole the art from his people.”

“Which I’m pretty sure is false,” Bellamy interrupted, since the years didn’t add up.

“Well, I’m not saying this guy was a genius or anything. Just a good thief. Da Vinci actually gifted it to King Francis I over 250 years before Napoleon was even born. But, back then you couldn’t google this shit,” she joked, and Bellamy let out an unexpected chuckle. “Also, I’m like 95 percent sure that his patriotic movies were bullshit, since he didn’t exactly donate the painting to an Italian museum or anything. Like, he tried to sell it. Which I get. Like, if you’re gonna go to the effort to steal a priceless painting, you might as well get paid for your hard work.”

Bellamy kept chuckling, even though it hurt his side slightly. But, it was worth it… because Clarke was unexpectedly funny.

“Sorry, I’m bad at keeping the story in order,” she said with a sigh.

“It’s fine,” Bellamy replied, still smirking to himself about her little tangent.

“Okay, so he entered into the Louvre with the other workers. He just picked the painting off the little pegs it was secured by, before smuggling it by the service staircase. After he got it out of the frame, he covered it in the smock that he had worn into the museum, before exiting the same way he came in, without arousing any attention.”

“No one noticed this random employee smuggle out the most famous painting in the world?” Bellamy had to ask, shaking his head slightly.

“Nope. People aren’t exactly observant,” she replied, and Bellamy let out an affirmative huff. He knew that fact all too well. There were too many times in his life where someone being more observant would have prevented this fate. “So, he hid this priceless painting in a trunk in his apartment for two whole years before taking it to Italy to sell it. Of course, the dudes who he was meeting with were huge art nerds who weren’t cool with him stealing the priceless piece of art, and turned him over to the police.”

Bellamy let out a huff, trying to imagine something as important as the Mona Lisa being missing for two whole years. People from all over the world flock to the Louvre to see it, probably. Hell, Bellamy would if he could. He couldn’t imagine something so priceless being gone.

“So, after being missing for years, the Mona Lisa made its way back to its home, the Louvre,” she continued her story, and Bellamy imagined she studied this story in an art class at some point. He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew a lot of stories like this one. “I, uh, learned this story a while ago. I really like art, and I had just found out that one of my favorite paintings from my textbook had actually been stolen years ago, and still hadn’t been found. I like to think it’ll be like the Mona Lisa: missing for a while, but as long as it survived, it would make its way home.”

Bellamy blinked a few times, suddenly realizing why Clarke shared this story with him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they were probably never going to be found, even though Murphy and Echo had probably already told her that in a hundred different ways. He was kind of furious that he missed Clarke’s first day, especially with all the horrible things Murphy and Echo could have said to her.

“I hope it will,” Bellamy added, resting his forehead on the cool wall that separated him from Clarke. “And, for your first story time, you did pretty good,” he said in a light tone, earning a small giggle from her. “Thank you, Clarke.”


	3. Princess Stories

Clarke wasn’t sure how she missed Bellamy getting taken. But, when she heard the same sound she heard that night again a few weeks later, she knew what it meant. It wasn’t Bellamy this time, though.

It took her what felt like hours to realize it was Echo. Clarke was stretching in her cell, since she was feeling tense from not moving enough. She could hear Bellamy let out an irritated huff after Murphy started whistling. She quickly got up to put her ear to Wells’ wall, hearing his footsteps on the other side. That meant the only person not accounted for was Echo.

At first, Clarke thought it was odd that none of them seemed to have a reaction to Echo being taken. But, as minutes turned to hours, she realized just how common this must be here. For some reason, Clarke had deluded herself into thinking that whatever experiments the doctors were performing had to be infrequent… just because it had been weeks since Bellamy had been taken.

“God damnit, Murphy! Knock it off!” Bellamy finally shouted, and Clarke jumped in shock.

“Normally, I wait until you’ve been taken to start whistling, but it also annoys princess. So, I’m gonna whistle whenever the fuck I want now,” Murphy groaned in response.

“Princess?” Clarke had to ask, and Murphy started laughing.

“Don’t take offense to it. He also calls me Prince Wells,” Wells replied, which only made Murphy laugh even louder. Clarke let out a huff, before deciding to walk the perimeter of her cell, like Bellamy suggested.

Murphy started whistling again, and Bellamy let out an even louder groan.

“Are you two really starting this up again?” Wells muttered, and Clarke heard a bang on the wall she shared with Bellamy.

“I’m not starting anything. Murphy is just bored and has decided to mess with me,” she heard Bellamy grumble, before he hit the wall again.

“Murphy, could you please stop for a bit?” Clarke pleaded, not liking the loud clang of Bellamy punching the wall.

“Well, how could I refuse a request from the princess herself?” Murphy replied, and Clarke knew he was smirking. She just bit her lip, as she continued to walk the perimeter of her cell. She’d be more annoyed… but he did stop whistling and Bellamy sounded calmer. “So, Clarke, what is your story?”

Clarke’s eyes flickered up toward her central wall, in the direction that Murphy’s voice was coming from. “Drugged and abducted in a diner in Mt. Weather. We’ve been over this,” she muttered, keeping her eyes on her scuffed-up tennis shoes as she kept walking.

“But, you’re not from Mt. Weather, are you?” he asked, and Clarke blinked a few times… not sure how he figured that out.

“Murphy,” Bellamy said in a warning tone, and Clarke swallowed.

“No, I’m not from Mt. Weather,” Clarke replied, trying to diffuse whatever tension there was between Bellamy and Murphy.

“I hear you’re a runaway like me,” Murphy said, almost smugly, and Clarke’s eyes flew to the wall she shared with Wells. She wasn’t sure if he had told Murphy, or if Murphy had just overheard. “What were you running away from?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Clarke retorted, and she heard Wells start to chuckle.

“Shut up, Wells,” Murphy snapped, and Clarke knew she had struck a chord with him. Then, she heard an unfamiliar noise. Everyone went completely silent, as she heard steps that didn’t belong to any of the boys in her neighboring cells.

“Don’t stop on my account,” a familiar man’s voice said, sounding like he was inside the cells, and Clarke got chills, as she realized it was Cage. “And, to answer your question, John, Miss Griffin ran because she found out her mother turned in her father for a crime he didn’t commit. Isn’t that right, Clarke?”

Clarke sucked in a breath, terrified by the fact that this stranger knew this about her.

“I thought Clarke’s dad was dead,” Wells muttered, and Clarke could feel tears start to well up in her eyes.

“He was murdered in prison,” Clarke clarified, her eyes fixed on the floor as she forced herself to take a deep breath. Then, she heard the sound of Cage exiting, and heard the door click shut.

“You have to admit the irony of the situation is kind of funny,” Murphy said, as Clarke sat down on the ground, sitting in the dead center of her cell.

“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy growled, as Clarke buried her face into her knees.

“Princess runs from home, and ends up locked up like her dad was and will get murdered here. Irony is a bitch,” Murphy kept going, and Clarke could faintly hear Wells mutter something to him.

“Clarke, come here,” she heard Bellamy whisper, and she knew that he meant for her to go to their corner… but she wasn’t in the mood for another one of his pep talks.

“Fuck off, Wells. If I wanted to get bitched out, I’d just wait for Echo to wake up,” Murphy snapped, and Clarke heard Bellamy tap the wall quickly, trying to get her attention. She knew he wouldn’t let up until she went back there, so Clarke let out a groan as she stood back up. She sat down in the corner, hearing Bellamy let out a small huff.

“You can’t let Murphy get into your head,” he whispered, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I can just walk away,” Clarke mumbled, and she heard Bellamy snort.

“You could just walk to this corner,” he suggested, as Clarke rested her head on their shared wall.

“For story time?” she teased, and Bellamy started chuckling.

“Clarke, I’m going to run out of happy mythology stories… there aren’t a lot of them to begin with,” he said, still chuckling.

“You’re gonna have to bust out the princess stories, since apparently they’d be perfect for me,” she muttered, and Bellamy started laughing even harder, which made her smile a bit.

“I wouldn’t dare. You don’t seem to like your newest nickname,” he said once his laughter died down a bit.

“Eh, it wouldn’t be so bad coming from you,” she shrugged, and she could barely make out the sound of Wells and Murphy still arguing.

 

When Murphy and Bellamy started arguing, Clarke was certain that Echo would wake up. But, from what Clarke heard, she didn’t… somehow.

Clarke was starting to get sleepy, and glanced longingly at her little bed. But, she normally spent her evenings talking to Bellamy and didn’t want to miss that opportunity by falling asleep too early. So, she started dragging her bed to the wall she shared with Bellamy, pressing it into the corner she shared with him. It just made sense, especially with how many times she had fallen asleep in that corner while talking to him and how sore her neck would be the following day. Meanwhile, she could drift off for a while and wake back up whenever Bellamy came to talk to her.

“You just can’t stop picking fights today, can you?” Bellamy snapped, with a harshness to his voice that Clarke wasn’t too fond of. It was a tone that she had never heard directed toward her… usually just toward Murphy and Echo, and occasionally Wells.

“Bellamy, get off my ass,” Murphy groaned in response, and Clarke could hear Wells start to snore. She left out a huff, before climbing into her bed.

“Do you two ever shut up?” she heard Echo groan, and Clarke sat up immediately, hearing Bellamy’s footsteps shuffle toward the other side of his cell.

“Oh good. The bitch is still alive,” Murphy mumbled, sounding farther away now. They all sat in silence for a few moments, as Clarke waited for Echo to say something else.

“Well?” she heard Bellamy whisper, and Clarke pressed her ear closer to the corner.

“Let’s wait until the others are asleep,” she heard Echo whisper back, and Clarke swallowed.

“Wells and Clarke are out, and Murphy’s in his own little world right now,” Bellamy said, and Clarke turned herself slightly, not wanting to alert Bellamy to the fact that she was still awake.

“Alright,” Echo said, her voice sounding pained as she spoke. “I had a psych eval before he knocked me out again.”

“Did anything seem out of the ordinary in his office?” Bellamy asked.

“Yeah, he’s got tons of new formulas and shit all over his walls and boards. And he did new shit to me this time, I think.”

“Yeah, last time Tsing brought me in, I noticed it was a different pain afterwards than what I’m used to. So, they’ve got some new data to work with,” Bellamy mused, and Clarke bit her lip.

“I don’t know if we should be rooting for them or not,” Echo said with a slight chuckle, but it sounded like it hurt for her to laugh. Bellamy chuckled slightly, but it sounded so forced. “And, I got a peek at the new girl’s file.”

“Any idea why Cage worked so hard to find her?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke sucked in a breath. She had thought that Cage finding her was just chance. That it was just her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, it sounded like her other inmates thought it was planned.

“Well, I didn’t exactly have access to my hands, Bellamy, so no. I just got to read what wasn’t covered by the folder it was under.”

“Well?” Bellamy huffed impatiently.

“She’s not like us. She’s more like Wells,” Echo said vaguely, and Clarke wasn’t sure what she meant by that. But, it sounded like Bellamy did by the way he let out a concerning breath.

“You’re leaving something out,” Bellamy said accusatorily, followed by a few moments of silence.

“You may need to tell her the story of what happened to Roma… you know, to prepare her. Just in case,” Echo said, and Clarke blinked a few times in confusion.

This was followed by more silence, before Clarke heard Bellamy hit his wall angrily. Clarke wanted to reach out to him, to ask him what was wrong… but she knew that he would be upset that she was eavesdropping, so she stayed quiet.

“Please, tell me she’s not—”

“She is. I saw her picture. She’s really pretty, Bellamy. And, you know that if we lose another body in here, he’ll probably try to use her to lure in the next one. Maybe if she gets warned, it won’t break her the way it did Roma,” Echo explained, and Clarke’s mind started going into a million directions as she tried to figure out what Echo meant by that. She placed her hands over her head, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating.

“Well,” Bellamy said, after a long pause, “We shouldn’t lose a body for a while, especially since we’re all pretty healthy right now and Cage isn’t stuck anymore. We can wait a while before we warn her.”

Clarke turned to put her back to the wall, as she pulled the pillow over her head. She could feel her warm tears streaming down her face, but did her best to muffle the sound so she wouldn’t startle Bellamy.

Eventually, she heard Bellamy make his way toward his bed, and Clarke pulled the pillow off her head as she turned around. She listened closely, trying to make out the strange, muffled sound coming from inside his cell. Then, she realized he was crying.

“Bellamy,” she whispered, and she heard his bed creak slightly.

“Clarke, you should be asleep,” he said quickly, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“Are you okay?” she asked, eyes wide as she stared at where the two walls met.

“Of course,” he blew it off, and Clarke’s chest started to ache in response. She continued to lie there, listening to the sound of Bellamy’s muffled tears until his breathing evened out.

 

“Did Cage target me specifically?” Clarke asked, leaning against the wall.

“Probably. He was gone for weeks and then came back with you. If he was just looking for a rando, he would have been back sooner,” Wells explained, and Clarke bit her lip. She hardly slept the night before, thinking over what she heard from Bellamy and Echo, and how it affected Bellamy.

“But, why would he target me specifically? I’m not exactly that special,” Clarke muttered, shaking her head slightly.

“Honestly, I’m the wrong person to ask. Murphy and Bellamy have been here the longest, and probably have the best idea about what it is Cage is looking for.”

“But, Bellamy is vague and secretive with me,” Clarke whispered, glancing over at her other wall. She knew Bellamy wasn’t listening at the moment, since he was in a heated debate with Echo at the moment.

“Yeah, he’s being a little protective over you. He’ll eventually open up, though. Just be patient,” Wells sighed, and Clarke furrowed her brows.

“Doesn’t it bother you that you don’t know what they want from you?” Clarke snapped, and Wells let out a huff.

“All the damn time, Clarke. But, I don’t exactly have a lot of agency here. It’s not like Cage or Lorelei answer my questions, and usually I’m unconscious when I’m with them. The only reason Murphy and Bellamy know as much as they do is because they’ve been here forever, and I think Lorelei lets things slip to Bellamy.”

“But, we all have to have something in common, right? How hard could it be to figure that out?” Clarke groaned, pulling at the ends of her hair.

“Easier said than done. But, none of us are from the same part of the country, or have similar familial or economic backgrounds. If something does connect us, it would have to be something that only a scientist could figure out. Because, trust me, we’ve been down this path.”

Clarke let out a frustrated huff. “Last night, I heard Echo say that I’m more like you than the others. What does that mean?”

“Fuck if I know,” Wells muttered.

“Alright, we need a judge. Clarke? Wells?” she heard Echo shout, followed by Wells groaning. Clarke moved to stand up, moving toward her center wall.

“What is it this time, children?” Wells snapped, and Murphy started chuckling.

“They’re arguing over the Monty Hall problem again,” Murphy explained, which then prompted Bellamy and Echo to start talking over each other, and Clarke was starting to get a headache.

“Nope. I’m not touching this one again,” Wells groaned, and Clarke heard him start to walk away. Clarke opened her mouth to speak, but she was starting to feel slightly dizzy.

“And I’m guessing princess is too good for puzzles,” she barely heard Murphy tease, and Clarke slowly sat herself down on the ground, her body feeling numb.

“Clarke?” she heard Bellamy call for her just as she realized what was happening to her. She didn’t hear the gas start over the sound of Echo and Bellamy arguing.

Her eyes fluttered shut, as she heard the muffled sounds over her fellow inmates trying to talk to her.

 

When she woke up, her eyes burned from the bright white room. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to actual light.

“Hello there, Clarke,” she heard a man’s voice say. She tilted her head slightly, seeing Cage Wallace sitting across from her, his legs crossed as he smiled at her.

“Where am I?” Clarke whispered, still feeling a bit dizzy.

“In my office. I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he said with the same creepy smile he had back at that diner.

“I’ve been better,” she muttered, and Cage pulled a pen off his desk before tapping his notebook a few times.

“So, Clarke, what can you tell me about the accident from when you were four?” he asked, looking at the notebook, before glancing back up at her.

“Um, not much. I don’t really remember it. I think I was visiting my dad’s factory and there was an unexpected fire,” she replied, furrowing her brows as she tried to come up with an actual memory from that day. But, it was mostly just what her parents told her had happened.

“A fire,” he huffed, furrowing his brows as he looked at his notebook. “Interesting.”

Then, he started scribbling some things down, as Clarke glanced around the room. She saw the equations that Echo had been talking about, and some of it made vague sense to Clarke since her mother was a doctor. But, not enough for her to know what he was looking for.

“Well, do you at least remember the doctor that treated you?” he asked, snapping Clarke’s head back in his direction.

“What?”

“You had to have a specialized treatment, from what I’ve read,” he explained, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I was really young,” she deflected, even though her brain was flashing to a brunette woman who was constantly checking up on her weeks after she came home from the hospital. “I don’t remember much.”

Cage didn’t look pleased with her answer, but he also didn’t look like he knew that Clarke was keeping something from him. He pursed his lips, as he reached over to grab a folder with her name on it.

“Well, I want you to take some time to think this over. See if any memories resurface,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at one sheet inside the folder.

“Why do you want to know about my accident?” Clarke asked, and Cage glanced up at her, smirking.

“Because you shouldn’t have survived. Something saved you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. Clarke swallowed, thinking back to that strange woman from all those years ago. Clarke was fairly certain she never saw her again, and couldn’t even begin to remember her name.

“People survive fires all the time,” Clarke snapped, a little too defensively, which made Cage lean back in his chair, as he gave her a once over.

“Tell me, Clarke, do you actually remember a fire?” he asked, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut, trying to remember that day. But, the only memories she had of the fire were from the news coverage afterwards or from what her dad told her. “I thought not.”

“Did you bring me here just to interrogate me about something that happened before I could even read?” Clarke asked, and Cage seemed almost surprised by her aggressive tone. Then, he stood up, throwing the folder back onto his messy desk.

“I don’t know what all the others have told you, but I might as well cover all the bases. I need you for some theories that I have. Occasionally, I will bring you back here to talk or knock you out to run some tests,” he said clinically, and Clarke saw his eyes scan her body, like a doctor would if looking for signs of injury. “I expect you to remain as healthy as you can. Eat the food I provide for you, get a decent amount of sleep, try and exercise in your cell… that kind of thing.”

Then, he started walking back toward his desk, pulling a pill out of a bottle. Clarke swallowed, remembering what Wells had told her about these meetings. He was going to knock her out again.

“Most importantly, do not injure yourself,” he said gravely, as he walked over toward her. Clarke jerked her arms, suddenly realizing that she was restrained… because, of course, she was. Then, he gripped her jaw. “Open,” he ordered, and Clarke complied. He placed the pill on her tongue, and she swallowed, but he didn’t let go of her face. “I’ve read a lot about you, Clarke. You’re smart, and you’re tough. That’ll serve you well, here,” he said, and Clarke felt her eyes already start to feel heavy. “But, don’t be reckless. If you cause any harm to me, or Dr. Tsing, or yourself, someone will have to suffer the consequences, and it will probably be one of the other four,” he warned.

Clarke clenched her eyes shut, feeling his tight grip on her jaw. She tried not to think too strongly about his words, about the idea of Murphy, Echo, Wells… or Bellamy getting hurt because of her. She tried not to think about how many people he’d given this speech to. Or how many times he made good on his threats.

So, she mentally painted a cloudy sky, just as the sun rose, before she fell unconscious.


	4. Phantom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the updated tag. There is a brief mention of suicide in this chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for all the feedback so far! I know this fic is pretty different than my other stuff, but I'm real excited to be trying something new. So, your positive feedback is so so important to me :)

“She hasn’t even been gone that long,” he heard Echo groan, but Bellamy refused to respond. He kept walking the perimeter of his cell.

“It’s longer than normal,” Murphy argued, and Bellamy swallowed. At least one other person in here recognized what Bellamy did… that Clarke had been gone for too long.

“It’s her first session. Maybe that’s why it’s taking so long,” Wells suggested, as Bellamy bit his lip. He vaguely remembers Wells’ first session taking a long time, but Echo’s didn’t. Then again, Echo said Clarke was more like Wells than them.

“What happened in your first one?” Echo asked, and Bellamy switched directions, now walking counterclockwise.

“From what I could tell, a lot of blood work. I was really dizzy for a while afterwards,” Wells mused, and Bellamy let out a huff. While he was glad that he was knocked out for whatever torture the doctors put them all through, he also desperately wanted to know what they were doing.

He spent most of his first year here trying to figure it out, asking his fellow inmates questions, looking for clues as to what they all had in common. He thought that finding the common factor would help him. But, it only gave him more questions.

It wasn’t until Sterling mentioned Becca that it started to click for Bellamy. He vaguely remembered a woman named Becca who would come by his house when he was really young and sick. His mom couldn’t afford whatever treatment he needed, but someone recommended that she reach out to Becca. She offered to perform a few experimental treatments on Bellamy, and warned his mother that it might not work.

Bellamy still didn’t know what she did to him, but, whatever it was, it worked. This Becca person had brought him back from the brink of death.

As each new inmate came in, they would have similar stories about her. Some barely remembered her, some had much clearer memories of her… but, none knew exactly what she did to them. But, whatever it was she did, Bellamy knew that Cage and Lorelei were trying to replicate it.

They frequently got stuck, taking more risks with some of the newer bodies here. But, occasionally, they would find a new subject that would help them along. Then, they would go through periods like now, where they focused a lot of attention to the new subject, giving the other four a much-needed break.

“Probably just collecting data, then. But, I’m pretty sure they did that when Clarke first arrived,” Murphy huffed, and Bellamy could tell that Murphy was getting as flustered as he was. The two of them had been here the longest, had seen what happened to Sterling, to Roma, to Monroe… to too many others. They never spoke about it, but there was an unspoken rule that they no longer shared their theories with the new ones. There wasn’t really a point. It always gave them a sense of hope, and broke Bellamy and Murphy’s hearts when that hope died… when they stopped hearing their friend’s voice on the other side of a wall.

“Maybe they already killed her,” Echo muttered, and Bellamy’s head jerked up.

“Don’t say shit like that. You know that’s Bellamy’s prison wife,” Murphy teased, and Bellamy let out a loud groan.

“Knock it off,” Bellamy snapped, clenching his jaw, as he picked up the pace of his walking. Then, Bellamy heard the click of Clarke’s door. He quietly tiptoed over to the corner, hearing Cage’s faint footsteps, followed by the sound of something being dropped on the bed. Bellamy let out a breath, realizing that Clarke had to still be alive.

He noticed that the others had stopped talking all together, and Bellamy wondered what Cage must think about that. He was pretty certain that Cage didn’t have audio surveillance over them, so this must be the only time he could hear them talking freely to each other. Bellamy wondered if Cage even cared about what they talked about.

As soon as he heard the door click again, Bellamy let out a breath, and could sense the others calming down too. But, this calm was short lived, since Bellamy immediately heard the gas start in another cell.

“Whose is it?” Bellamy asked frantically, since it wasn’t his or Clarke’s.

“Echo,” Murphy said, and then the noise got even louder. “Fuck!” he heard Murphy shout.

“Wells, what’s going on?” Bellamy shouted.

“It’s Murphy too,” Wells said, his voice catching slightly. Bellamy blinked a few times, not understanding. They never took more than one of them at once, and never so soon after bringing one back.

Then, the noise got louder again, drowning out the muffled coughs from Echo and Murphy.

“They’re taking you too, aren’t they?” he heard Wells ask, as Bellamy felt the gas start in his cell too.

 

When Bellamy’s eyes opened again, he was in his cell, lying on his bed… just like every other time he got brought back.

“Why didn’t they take you?” Murphy shouted, and Bellamy slowly sat up, surprised that he didn’t feel any real pain. He pushed up his sleeves and lifted up his shirt, looking for any evidence of what they did to him this time.

“Fuck if I know,” Wells groaned, and Bellamy blinked a few times in confusion. He remembers being taken at the same time as Echo and Murphy, and he knew at least Murphy was still alive.

“Echo?” he called out.

“Still alive,” Echo growled, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sick and tired of us getting the weird experiments, while you just chill out in your cell,” Murphy muttered, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut again. He felt fine, almost like nothing had happened to him. He was slightly achy, but it was more like he had just worked out too hard.

“It’s not like I’m choosing what happens to all of us,” Wells snapped, and Echo let out a loud groan. Amidst all the arguing, Bellamy noticed one voice missing.

“Clarke?” he called out, standing up so he could hit their wall.

“She hasn’t woken up yet,” Wells said somberly, and Bellamy felt his hands start to shake slightly.

“How long were we even gone?” Echo asked, as Bellamy walked to the back corner, pressing his ear to see if he could even hear Clarke breathing. He started smiling when he could.

“Half a day, and then it took another few hours for you guys to wake up,” Wells explained, and Bellamy furrowed his brows. Clarke should have woken up by now.

“Clarke, wake up,” Bellamy whispered into the corner.

“Bellamy, we have bigger things to worry about than your unconscious girlfriend,” Murphy snapped, and Bellamy groaned, storming toward the center of his cell.

“Stop, Murphy,” he growled in response.

“How are you gonna make me stop, Bellamy? Gonna come over to my cell and beat me up?” he teased, as Bellamy punched the center wall. He let out a slight yelp, not expecting that kind of pain in his knuckles.

“Bellamy, stop threatening Murphy. Murphy, stop teasing Bellamy about Clarke,” Echo groaned, as Bellamy shook his hand, trying to make that pain go away.

“Oh, come on. You see it, too. He’s getting attached to the girl, and she might not even make it through the night,” Murphy growled, and, somehow, Bellamy resisted the urge to hit the wall again. Clarke was going to be fine. She just got here, and was clearly valuable to Cage for some reason. She was okay.

“Knock it off,” Wells yelled, and Bellamy stormed back to the corner, pressing his ear to the cold wall. He could hear Clarke’s breathing just fine, and let out a breath of his own, relieved that her breathing sounded even.

“Clarke, I need you to wake up,” Bellamy pleaded quietly, ignoring the sounds of Murphy and Echo hypothesizing why the three of them had been taken all at once.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to remember the last time someone had been knocked out this long. He vaguely remembered Fox being out for a long time, but that was because she almost died on the operating table.

Bellamy swallowed, arguing with himself that they couldn’t have done that to Clarke. They would have needed more time between bringing her back and bringing the rest of them in if something had gone wrong.

“I’m just saying that you and Bellamy know more than you’re telling us,” Wells snapped, and Bellamy’s head jerked up.

“You’re full of shit, Wells,” Murphy grumbled, as Bellamy walked toward the voices.

“We know more than you do, but we still don’t really know anything,” Bellamy clarified as calmly as he could.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Echo shouted so loudly that Bellamy flinched.

“What do you want to do, Bellamy?” Murphy asked, his voice sounding serious for once. Bellamy bit his lip, wondering if it was time to tell them.

“Wells, do you remember a woman named Becca?’ Bellamy asked, and the whole cell went silent for a few minutes.

“Did she have brown hair and big eyes?” he heard Clarke ask weakly, and he braced his arm on the wall, melting into it from relief.

“Yeah, Clarke. How are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” she muttered, and Bellamy heard her start to stand up. “Cage asked me about this woman.”

“Well, our theory just got confirmed,” he heard Murphy say, but Bellamy was too busy listening to Clarke’s wall to respond. It sounded like she was struggling to stand up, meanwhile the other three that had been experimented on were feeling fine.

“I don’t remember a brunette woman, but I remember my dad talking to me about a woman named Becca who helped me when I was little,” Wells said, and Bellamy nodded along. Then, he heard something clang in Clarke’s cell.

“Clarke!” he shouted, but got no response.

“That might be the same woman who worked with me while I was in the hospital. I never caught her name,” he heard Echo say.

“What were you in the hospital for?” Murphy asked.

“They found something in one of my x-rays. I don’t remember a lot about it, since they talked mostly to my guardian about the results. I was too young to understand, I think.”

“Clarke, are you okay?” he heard Wells ask.

“I think she collapsed,” Bellamy shouted to him, his forehead pressed against the wall. Wells let out a huff, and Bellamy did the same. There was absolutely nothing they could do to help Clarke, and it made Bellamy feel sick. She was probably less than a yard away from him, but he couldn’t get to her.

“So, this Becca person is the common link between all of us?” Wells asked, not sounding like he was buying it.

“There’s more to it,” Bellamy groaned. “I think whatever it was she was doing, she started off by experimenting on kids who couldn’t afford treatments.”

“Well, that wouldn’t apply to me and Clarke, then,” Wells observed, and Bellamy nodded, since he had already made that connection.

“Meaning, she perfected whatever it was she was doing and was able to sell it to rich people with sick kids,” Murphy muttered.

“What year did she help you guys?” he finally heard Clarke’s voice ask, and he felt his body relax again.

“2002,” Wells said.

“Murphy and I were both in 1999,” Bellamy answered.

“Probably in 2000 or 2001,” Echo replied. Bellamy nodded along, since these years were pretty consistent with what the others had all said.

“2003,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy heard her try to push herself back up.

“Be careful, Clarke,” he warned, before hearing her groan.

“Clarke, what did they do to you?” he heard Murphy ask, and Bellamy swears his voice almost sounded panicked. Bellamy pressed his ear closer to Clarke’s wall, not hearing her stand up… but it was almost like she was crawling back to her bed.

His theory was confirmed as he heard her bed squeak, followed by several labored breaths.

“Is Clarke still there?” Echo asked.

“Give me a minute,” Clarke said breathlessly, and Bellamy heard her finally lie down. “If your Becca theory is correct, that means I might be the most recent sample of her work,” Clarke huffed.

“Why does that matter?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy tilted his head to the side curiously.

“Okay, think about it like a complicated recipe that a chef spent years developing,” Clarke explained, her breathing still sounding unstable. “There will be a lot of differences between the first few times they made the dish, versus the last few… because they learned new things along the way.”

Murphy let out a loud groan, but the others remained quiet for a few moments.

“So, that’s why it always seemed like Wells had different experiments done on him than us. They’re studying him, and trying to replicate it on us,” Echo said, almost excitedly.

“I guess,” Bellamy whispered, trying to wrap his head around that.

“Clarke?” he could barely hear Wells whisper. “What did they do to you? The others seem perfectly fine, but you don’t.”

“Probably got as many samples out of me as they could without killing me,” Clarke muttered, her voice sounding muffled, maybe by her pillow.

Wells kept trying to talk to her, but Bellamy noticed that Clarke stopped speaking in return. He wasn’t sure if she was asleep again, or if it was just too painful for her to keep talking.

Eventually, Wells gave up, and, slowly, Bellamy heard each of his inmates climb back into their beds. He wanted to do the same, since he was tired. But, he started to wonder if Clarke would be okay if she woke up and he didn’t hear her if she called for him. He let out a huff, before dragging his bed into the corner, so he could hear her if she needed him.

He crawled into his bed, turning toward the wall. “Clarke?” he whispered, knowing that she was probably already fast asleep.

“Bellamy,” he heard her say in response.

“Are you okay?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

“No,” she confessed, and he could hear her voice break. He closed his eyes, nodding in recognition. “But, you don’t have to stay here and comfort me. It’s okay.”

“I want to,” he replied, putting his hand up on the cool wall. God, she could be just inches away from him now… yet still out of his reach.

“It’s okay, I understand,” she whispered, and Bellamy didn’t understand where this was coming from. She had been fine with him comforting her every other night.

“Clarke.”

“How many people from this cell have you lost?” she asked hesitantly, and Bellamy felt his chest tighten at that question. “I think you know that I’m not getting out of this alive, just like Murphy said. Hell, you’re probably going to outlive me.”

“Please don’t talk like that,” he pleaded.

“But, you think like that, don’t you? There’s a reason you don’t ask me questions about my life before this place. The better you know me, the worse it’ll hurt.”

Bellamy pressed his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes as he reflected on those words. She was right, of course. He learned to stop asking those questions a long time ago. Because, every time he thinks of snow, he thinks about how Bree told him about how her dad always took her sledding. Every time someone mentions soccer, he thinks about Atom showing up hungover to his try out, yet somehow making the team.

His mind was flooded with memories that weren’t even his. And those memories haunt him long after their owners have disappeared. He already had a few things that he associated with Clarke, like art… he wasn’t sure if he could bare much more that would remind him of her.

“I think I almost died, Bell,” Clarke confessed, and Bellamy felt his eyes well up with tears. They sat in silence for a few moments, and Bellamy wondered if she started to drift back to sleep. She was probably exhausted, especially with how many samples they probably took from her. Then, he heard her let out a sigh.

“Clarke, that first night I overheard you telling Wells that someone wouldn’t look for you. Who were you talking about?” he asked.

“His name is Finn. He was my boyfriend, until I found out he was dating someone else.”

“And why didn’t you think he would look for you?”

“He loves his girlfriend, and I was just, uh, I don’t even know. He didn’t even call when I ran off,” she sighed, and Bellamy bit his lip.

“And your mom?” he asked, reminding himself that her dad was dead.

“She thinks I ran away too. Plus, I ditched my phone in a lake long before I hit Mt. Weather, so she had no way of tracing me. She probably found a trail that led her to Tondc, since that’s where I was headed. I’m sure she’s still looking for me, but she won’t find me.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, turning onto his back.

“Is anyone looking for you?” she asked, and Bellamy swallowed.

“The only person I have left is my little sister, Octavia,” he replied, his lips twitching as he said her name. “But, she’s too young to be able to find me.” He purposefully left out that Octavia wouldn’t have the first clue about where to look. As far as she knew, Bellamy joined the army and never came back. If anything, she’d assume that he died in combat and that’s why she stopped hearing from him.

“What’s it like to have a sibling?” she asked, and Bellamy’s lips twitched into a smile.

“Amazing and annoying all at the same time. O is so smart and curious, but always in my business,” he replied, smirking at the memory of Octavia prodding him with questions after his first date. “Honestly, it’s a lot like dealing with Murphy. I simultaneously want to shake him and hug him,” he joked, and he heard Clarke snort. “Clarke, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have some kind of science background? You seem to have a good grasp on what’s going on even though you just got here,” he mused, thinking back to how quickly she was caught up on the Becca hypothesis.

“Sort of. My mom is a doctor, and she wanted me to become one too. Like, I’ve spent a lot of my summers working in hospitals,” she replied, and Bellamy nodded along. “I mean, I don’t know enough to actually be helpful. I’m only eighteen.”

“You know more than we do. Did you see any formulas in Cage’s office?” he asked.

“Yeah. I couldn’t make sense of them. But, I figured they were related to what he was asking me about Becca. So, I’m right? He’s trying to replicate her work?”

“I think so,” he smirked, feeling a bit cheered up at how excited Clarke sounded about being right.

“Does that mean this Becca person isn’t around anymore?” she asked, and Bellamy furrowed his brows… having not considered that possibility before. But, it made sense. If he wanted to replicate her work so badly, he could easily go straight to the source… unless the source was gone. And, Clarke was experimented on by her back in 2003. If Becca were still around, there would have been someone else in these cells who had been fixed more recently than that.

“Probably not,” he replied, turning back on his side, trying to get comfortable.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, as Bellamy listened to her breathing start to slow. He wasn’t sure if the others were all asleep yet, but he really didn’t care. It wasn’t like Murphy could give him any more shit than he already had about Bellamy’s late-night conversations with Clarke. They all knew that Bellamy had gotten attached. It was no secret anymore.

“Bellamy?” he heard Clarke say weakly, as he slid closer to the wall.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“What happened to Roma?”

Bellamy’s chest tightened, as he realized that Clarke had to have overheard him and Echo talking about her. He wasn’t prepared to have this conversation with her… it was hard enough when he had to have with Echo all those months ago. But, he needed to. Only he and Murphy were there for it, and Bellamy didn’t trust Murphy to explain it delicately.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. “So, a person who used to be in Wells’ cell died during an experiment… which meant that Cage had to find a replacement. Sometimes he isn’t super choosy and has an easy time bringing a replacement here. But, other times… his targets are more difficult to get. Kind of like you and Wells were.”

Bellamy heard Clarke suck in a breath, but she didn’t interrupt him.

“He decided to pull Roma out of the cells and took her to find the new target. She, uh, had to trick him into coming here. Because Cage was too suspicious to get close enough to this guy…”

“But, a pretty girl wasn’t suspicious,” Clarke filled in the dots, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, fearing how Clarke would handle how this story ended.

“No, and after she… got to know this guy better, she got close enough to drug him for Cage.” He stopped himself, feeling tears threaten in his eyes again. He had lost so much sleep over what happened to Roma. She didn’t die like the rest of them did.

He wasn’t sure if Clarke had connected the final dots or not, but he knew that she feared that her story would be like Roma’s. In Bellamy’s time here, Roma was the only one this happened to. But, he vaguely remembered his first cell neighbor telling him a story about another girl who had been there that went through something similar.

“When she came back, the guilt started to eat away at her. And, it got worse when a week later, the guy she lured here died unexpectedly,” he whispered, and if Clarke could tell he was crying, she didn’t say anything. “She lasted another week before she killed herself.”

He didn’t know what he expected Clarke to say, if anything at all. Echo met him with silence when he told her the story as well.

“I’m not telling you this story to scare you… just to warn you about what might happen to you or Echo if there is suddenly a vacancy here,” he added in.

“I know. You wouldn’t tell me if you didn’t have to,” she whispered back, but Bellamy couldn’t tell if she was okay or not.

“So, uh,” Bellamy started to change the subject, not sure he had a story for her tonight. “Tell me more about that shitty boyfriend of yours,” he finally blurted out.

“Bellamy, you don’t have to do this,” Clarke whispered.

“Do what?”

“Try to get to know me. I know it just makes it harder for you,” she replied, and he swallowed.

“I want to know you,” he clarified. But, that statement held just a little too much weight, so he added in, “And I want to know how someone like you settled for some cheating douchebag,” with a teasing tone, earning a small chuckle from Clarke.

“It’s called being seventeen and never having a boyfriend before. You have a tendency to believe whatever a guy will tell you at that point. Like that he wasn’t a cheating douchebag,” she replied, but Bellamy could tell she at least had a small smile on her face.

“Come on. I know you have more to bitch about than that,” he egged her on, and she let out a slight groan.

“Oh my God. So fucking much. Like he’s the kind of guy that watches Phantom of the Opera once, and spends the rest of time bitching about how the phantom got friend-zoned.”

“Clarke, you have terrible taste in boyfriends,” Bellamy replied quickly, chuckling to himself. From what he knew about Clarke, there was no way in hell she would last long with a guy like that. He couldn’t imagine her not chewing him out over that alone. She ripped into Murphy over less egregious statements.

“I mean, we can all agree my judgement is questionable at best. But, I don’t understand how Finn had two girlfriends for so long. He fucking sucks, Bell,” Clarke said, and he started chuckling even louder. “No, like Raven is such a badass cool person, and so damn smart. And, I’m okay. I just don’t know why we both fell for his shit.”

“I mean, you’re more than okay, Clarke,” Bellamy jumped in, and she let out a sigh. “Sure, you got abducted and dated a total loser, but you are still a quality person, princess,” he teased, and he swears he could hear her roll her eyes.

“I feel like you have to say that, since you’re kind of stuck with me until one of us dies,” Clarke joked, and Bellamy let out a playful groan.

“Clarke, you are funny and smart, and if Echo is to be believed, pretty. You’ve got a big heart and a beautiful laugh. So, shut up,” he said, hoping that came off as teasing, but as soon as it was out of his mouth, he realized how serious it sounded.

“Be careful, Bell. It sounds like you’ve got a soft spot for me,” Clarke teased, and he felt his smile return back to his face, as he slid closer to the wall.

“Well, Murphy did refer to you as my prison wife,” he pointed out, and Clarke started laughing so loudly, he was pretty sure she was going to wake everyone else up. He tried shushing her, but he couldn’t stop laughing either.

“Romeo and Juliet, go the fuck to sleep!” he heard Murphy yell, as Bellamy tried to muffle his laughter with his pillow. Clarke was still giggling, a little softer than before… but just as beautiful and warm.


	5. The Breakfast Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: this chapter has a LOT of plot, and has a character death in it. It's not super graphic or anything, just sad. Also, the pace of the fic is gonna pick up a bit, and two characters get introduced here.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for all the love, you guys! You're great. Never change :)

“He’s probably in the same room Cage took me to yesterday,” Murphy mumbled, and Clarke let out a huff. She was getting more and more frustrated every day, since Cage’s experiments were making less and less sense. He hadn’t come for her or Wells in what felt like months. Meanwhile, he took one of the other three every single day.

According to Bellamy and Murphy, this is the first time Cage had gotten into a pattern like this. And, Clarke would be calmer… if she just knew why she and Wells were being spared.

“God, I’m still so fucking sore,” Echo muttered, and Murphy let out a groan.

“I kind of miss being unconscious for that shit,” he replied, and Clarke pressed her lips together. From what the other three had explained, she figured that Cage wasn’t actually performing anymore medical experiments on them. Instead, he seemed to be measuring something. They were having more physical tests and psych evaluations than normal.

“Eh, just be grateful for some exercise,” Wells grumbled, and Clarke hit his wall to remind him to knock it off. Bellamy wasn’t back yet, and Clarke really didn’t want to have to play mediator between Wells and Murphy alone.

“I’ll be grateful as soon as I figure out what these dark spots on my skin are,” Echo groaned, and Clarke’s ears perked up.

“Describe them,” Clarke said, walking toward the center wall.

“Like they’re tiny little black dots. Every time I come back I have one on my arm. Bellamy’s been getting them too,” she replied.

“Murphy? What about you?” Clarke asked.

“Nope. All I have are red dots from when they took my blood,” he said, and Clarke opened her mouth to speak, before clamping it shut when she heard Bellamy’s door open. She heard more footsteps inside his cell, followed by a loud huff that she could only assume was Cage.

After a few moments of silence, they finally heard Bellamy’s door shut, followed by the sound of Cage walking away.

“Well, I can hear Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s breathing, so at least he’s still alive,” Murphy finally said, followed by a snort from Wells.

“How would you even know he was tall or handsome?” Echo asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, I’ve seen Bellamy before,” he replied, and Clarke’s head tilted in confusion.

“Did you two know each other before coming here?” Clarke asked, not sure why this hadn’t come up before.

“Nah, we used to be in clear cells. We could all see each other back in the day,” Murphy said, as Clarke glanced around her cell. The walls weren’t even a bit see-through. Cage must have switched where he kept them. Or, he did something to alter the walls… Like how they make one-way mirrors for interrogation rooms. She vaguely remembers looking that up when she was younger. It probably wouldn’t be too hard for Cage to pull off.

“Why did they switch it up?” Wells asked, and that told Clarke that it had to have been at least a year since the walls were clear… otherwise, he would have known about it.

“They figured out that constantly watching our friends die was having a negative effect on us,” Murphy snorted, and Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion.

“They care about our emotional well-being?” Clarke joked.

“When it affects their results, yeah. They had to put all of us on antidepressants, and I think that made the work more difficult,” Murphy explained, and Clarke nodded. She still wasn’t sure what exactly they were looking for… but, she could imagine that certain drugs could affect the results. Then, Clarke heard Bellamy groan, and she quickly moved toward the corner.

“Bell? You okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah, princess. I’m good,” he reassured, his voice sounding close. She let out a relieved sigh.

“Hey, Bellamy. I was just telling everyone how pretty you are,” Murphy shouted, and Clarke heard Bellamy snort.

“Murphy is pretty too, guys,” Bellamy teased, and Echo burst out laughing.

“Which did you guys prefer? The blacked-out walls or the clear ones?” Wells asked, and Clarke heard Bellamy let out a huff.

“Day to day, I preferred being able to see everyone. But, on the bad days, it was torture,” Murphy explained, and Clarke nodded along. She could see that. She couldn’t imagine how it would affect her to actually see what was happening to the others… but, it probably wouldn’t be great.

“Which did you prefer?” Echo asked Bellamy, and he stayed silent for a few moments.

“It’s easier to deal with the deaths this way,” he finally said, and Clarke’s chest started to tighten.

 

Clarke was stretching again in her cell, killing time until Cage brought Wells back. She was a bit panicked that he had finally come for Wells after all this time, not sure what exactly that meant.

“And then what happened?” Echo asked, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“Oh, one of my favorite lines. Bender is all ‘if he gets up, we’ll all get up. It’ll be anarchy,’” Murphy quoted and Clarke burst out laughing.

“Seriously, who hasn’t seen The Breakfast Club?” Bellamy asked, sounding frustrated as he walked the perimeter of his cell. Clarke leaned back down, to touch her toes, giggling slightly to herself.

“If you think about it, we’re basically The Breakfast Club,” Murphy said, and Bellamy let out a groan. “I’m Bender, Princess is the prom queen, Echo is that crazy one,” he explained.

“I am not!” Echo shouted.

“How would you know? You haven’t seen the movie,” Bellamy teased, which made Echo groan even louder.

“Is Bellamy the nerd or the jock?” Clarke asked with a slight giggle.

“Honestly, it’s kind of a coin flip. On one hand, he’s got the body for the jock, but he’s nerdy as fuck,” Murphy said, and Bellamy started groaning. “The real question is which one is Wells.”

“Nerd,” Clarke and Bellamy answered at the same time.

“Cool, so Bellamy is the Emilio Estevez guy,” Murphy said, sounding all too pleased with himself.

Then, Clarke heard Wells’ door open, and she jumped up. But, it didn’t sound like Cage was walking into it. She held her breath, while the others fell silent. She heard some rustling, but nothing that sounded like Wells being returned.

“Lorelei,” Clarke heard Bellamy say seriously, and Clarke glanced back at Wells’ wall.

“You guys can keep talking,” she heard Dr. Tsing say, and Clarke was confused as to why Cage wasn’t here.

“Where is Wells?” Murphy growled, and Clarke could feel the tears start to build in her eyes. She heard Tsing quickly move out of Wells’ cell, slamming the door shut behind her.

Clarke started shaking her head quickly, her bottom lip quivering slightly. She could hear Echo and Bellamy whispering, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was this loud ringing in Clarke’s ears.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring at the wall she shared with Wells. She knew he wasn’t on the other side.

“Clarke, come here,” she heard Bellamy whisper, and that was practically a confirmation of everything that she feared. But, she couldn’t move her legs. She couldn’t get toward Bellamy. Instead, she reached her hand out to touch the black wall, wondering how she was supposed to mourn a person that she had never even seen.

“Clarke, please,” Bellamy pleaded, and Clarke could hear his voice break slightly. She turned back to look at his wall, wondering if one day he wouldn’t be on the other side of it anymore. She slowly stepped toward her bed, hearing Bellamy let out a relieved sigh. She crawled into her bed in the corner, getting as close to the wall as she could.

“I’m here,” Clarke whispered, her tears feeling warm against her cold cheeks.

“He’s gone, Clarke,” Bellamy said reluctantly, and Clarke buried her face into her pillow. “Usually, it takes us longer to figure it out. We just have to wait until we stop hearing their voice. But, Lorelei doesn’t come near the cells unless Cage is gone or if she’s cleaning up the cell for the next inhabitant.”

“Are we ever going to know what happened to him?” Clarke asked desperately.

“No.”

Clarke heaved into her pillow, her hands shaking as she held onto it. She could hear the faint sound of Murphy and Echo whispering in their corner.

“I’m sorry, Clarke. I know he was your friend,” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke lifted her head to look at their corner. She thought she understood before why Bellamy didn’t ask her questions… but, now she really understood. Because, her brain was full of funny conversations she had with Wells, where he told her about his childhood, about his crazy ex-girlfriend, about how he tried to teach himself piano and failed. It would be easier if she didn’t know him. But, she did.

“I don’t even know what he looks like. If he was tall or short, or if he gave good hugs,” Clarke mumbled, and she heard Bellamy suck in a breath.

She laid there in silence for a few minutes, listening to Bellamy sniffle a few times. From what she could tell, Murphy and Echo were crying too.

She let her mind drift, wondering why Cage would let Wells die. Maybe, he hadn’t been experimenting on him lately because he already got the information he needed out of him. Then, Clarke remembered that she hadn’t been to see Cage in a long time either. She jerked up, glancing over at Wells’ cell. She could be next.

 

“Clarke?” she heard Bellamy whisper, waking her up from her sleep.

“Hmm?” she mumbled in response, rubbing her eyes slightly.

“Sorry, go back to sleep,” he said quickly.

“Nope. I can sleep whenever, remember?” Clarke tried to joke, but it came out a little flat.

“I was just wondering. What do you look like?” he asked, and Clarke blinked a few times, not expecting that question.

“Um, I’m kind of short. I have blonde hair, and it’s a little too long right now, but who has the time for a haircut these days?” she replied. He let out a slight chuckle, and it was such a sweet sound after the last few days. Clarke had hardly gotten out of bed since Wells disappeared, and everyone had been relatively silent… even Murphy.

“Eyes?” he asked.

“I have them,” Clarke joked, and Bellamy let out a groan. “Blue.”

“My favorite color,” he whispered softly, and Clarke started smiling to herself.

“I know,” she said with a small grin, and she heard Bellamy sigh.

“I’m probably a lot taller than you,” he mused, as Clarke scooted closer to the wall. “I have brown eyes, dark curly hair. Also, probably a little too long,” he said, and Clarke knew he was smirking to himself.

“You should really talk to Cage about getting a haircut,” Clarke teased, and Bellamy started chuckling.

“Well, now that’s at the top of my priority list, since princess requested it,” he teased in return, and Clarke had to muffle her laughter into her pillow.

“Eh, you could just lie to me and say you got it cut. Not like I’d know the difference,” she remarked.

“Not too crazy about lying to you, though. You’re my best friend,” he said so casually, that it caught Clarke off guard. But, it shouldn’t have. He was her best friend. In fact, Clarke wasn’t sure she had ever been as close to another person in her life, emotionally speaking, of course. His voice was almost always the first and last one she heard each day. His stories kept her sane.

Clarke must not have expected that Bellamy felt the same way. After all, he had dozens of cellmates over the years, and Clarke wouldn’t think she would be any more special to him than the others.

“And you’re my best friend,” she replied, and she swears she could hear Bellamy smiling.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Clarke could hear him move a bit closer to the wall. She had figured out a while ago that he had pushed his bed up to the corner just like she did, and for some reason, it made Clarke feel safer. It was easier to fall asleep at night, knowing that he was right next to her.

“I wish I could see you,” he confessed, and Clarke felt her entire chest grow warm. The warmth travelled up to her cheeks, and she felt herself burying her face into her pillow while blushing, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Me too,” she whispered, trying to picture the man lying right next to her. She imagined he was lying on his side like she was, facing her. She wondered what his smile looked like, and if he smiled a lot. “Maybe in another life,” she said finally, and Bellamy let out a sigh.

 

As weeks turned into months, Clarke was started to get nervous about the fact that Cage had not brought in a replacement for Wells. She should be relieved, of course. That there wasn’t a fifth person here being tortured. But, it just made Clarke more nervous. And, it had a similar effect on everyone else.

“She wouldn’t elaborate anymore,” Bellamy groaned, while Clarke walked the perimeter of her cell.

“Damnit,” Murphy mumbled.

“She finally let it slip that Wells’ death was an accident, though,” Bellamy said, and Clarke’s eyes flickered to Wells’ wall again. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about it being an accident.

Then, Clarke heard the gas start. She moved to her bed quickly, covering her mouth with her pillow.

“Motherfucker,” Echo groaned, and Clarke heard Murphy let out a loud sigh.

“Clarke, stay calm,” Bellamy said quickly, as she heard him rush over toward their corner.

“He’s gonna fucking kill her!” Echo screamed, and Clarke felt herself start to shake.

“Princess, don’t listen to them, just listen to me,” he said, as Clarke closed her eyes.

“Shut up, Echo!” Murphy screamed.

“You’re okay, Clarke. Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to come back to me, okay?” Bellamy said, almost like he was praying. Clarke tried to say something in return, but it was too late. The darkness took over.

 

When Clarke woke up, she was in an unfamiliar room. She glanced around, noticing dull artwork on the walls. It felt like Clarke was on a bed, one that was far more comfortable than the one in her cell. She turned her head slightly, seeing a window with curtains that didn’t match the ones from the labs and offices she had been in.

“I drugged her more than usual. Just be patient,” she heard Cage murmur. She blinked a few times, seeing two men sitting on the couch. One was Cage… and one was a man she had only seen once or twice while being experimented on. He wasn’t one of the doctors, she knew that much.

“Poor thing looks confused,” the other man said, looking right at Clarke.

“Where am I?” Clarke asked frantically, realizing that this looked a lot like a hotel room… meaning she was far away from wherever Cage had been keeping her.

“Emerson, give us a moment,” Cage said, as the other man got up and walked onto the hotel room’s balcony. Clarke’s eyes widened, as the door shut behind him. “Clarke, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m missing a person in the cells,” he said smugly, and Clarke felt like she could strangle him for speaking about Wells’ death so casually.

“What does that have to do with me?” she growled, and Cage started chuckling at her. She tried to get up, before realizing that, of course, her hands were restrained.

“There is someone specific I want. His name is Roan. You’re going to help me,” he said casually, and Clarke started shaking her head frantically. Bellamy had warned her about this… but, Clarke figured that because it ended so poorly last time, that Cage wouldn’t try it again.

“No,” Clarke snapped, as Cage walked over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, Clarke. And, let me just set a few ground rules. You will not try to run. You will not try to call for help. You will not try to hurt yourself. You will be monitored very closely by me and Emerson. And, if you do anything to warn Roan or violate any of these rules, I will take my anger out on Echo, Murphy, and Bellamy. Understood?”

Clarke felt her bottom lip quiver as she nodded her head. Her brain was working in overdrive, trying to find a way out of this, another choice… but, anything she tried, could result in Bellamy’s pain… or worse.

 

They put a microphone on her, so they could hear everything she said or did in the room next door. She had gotten her tears out of the way during her shower, heaving as she came to terms with what she was about to do.

When she took a look in the mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. She had no idea how long it had been since she had seen herself, and wondered if she always looked this tired.

Locating Roan wasn’t hard, since he was already tipsy at the hotel bar. She recognized him from the photo that Emerson had shown her. What was hard was realizing how happy Roan looked, joking around with his friends.

Getting his attention wasn’t hard either, she realized. There weren’t a lot of women there, and Cage had said that Roan had a reputation of having a thing for blondes. Plus, Clarke cleaned up well, despite months of being caged up. She didn’t even have to approach him. He found her, not hesitating to put his hand on her thigh as he offered to buy her a drink. Clarke swallowed, forcing a smile, even though it was killing her that this was the first time she felt someone touch her in months.

Roan probably took her nervousness for being about him, and not from her horrifying guilt. She tried to listen to what he was saying, but Clarke was too busy trying to remember the last time she had been kissed. It was Finn, before she found out about Raven.

Clarke spotted Emerson eyeing her carefully across the room, shooting her a warning look. Clarke swallowed, before asking Roan if he would like to go upstairs. As the elevator doors shut, Clarke tried to plan out how she would drug him. She needed to do it before things went too far. It wasn’t like Clarke was a virgin… but, she had only been with one person before, and wasn’t prepared to add the guy she was tricking to that list.

When her door shut, Roan crashed into her, tasting like whiskey. Clarke felt shaky, so overwhelmed at how wrong this felt. She cursed herself, reminding herself that this might be the last time she ever gets to touch another person. She thought about how lonely it was in her cell, and how desperate she would be for human contact.

She knew it felt wrong because of what she was doing to Roan. But, that wasn’t the reason that it was so painful for Clarke, that every time he touched her skin she felt like she could throw up… it’s because it wasn’t the person she had been dreaming about touching.

“Let’s slow down,” Clarke said, walking Roan back toward the bed. He smirked at her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Clarke spotted something in his jacket pocket, realizing it was his phone.

She tried to think logically. She knew it would be a waste of an opportunity if she didn’t at least try to contact someone about their situation, but she also knew that if Cage found out about it, someone would end up dead.

“Thirsty?” Clarke asked, walking over to grab a glass of water.

“Yeah,” Roan replied, eyeing her carefully. Clarke swallowed, as she contemplated if this was the moment she should drug him. On one hand, it was the perfect opportunity and would keep her from having to do anything else with him. But, as soon as Cage figured out that Roan was unconscious, he would come for both of them, leaving Clarke without an opportunity to ask for help.

She furrowed her brows, as she drugged his glass. She plastered a smile back on as she walked back to him. He reached for the glass, but Clarke pulled it out of his reach, teasingly. He narrowed his eyes at her, as Clarke leaned down to kiss his neck. She finally handed him the glass, knowing he’d be too distracted to take a drink just yet. Then, she bit his neck slightly, before reaching to grab his phone. She slid it into her sleeve quickly, as she kissed his lips again, trying to ignore how painful and wrong it felt.

“Let me go freshen up,” Clarke said, before heading toward the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roan finally take a sip of the water. She swallowed, before quickly shutting the door behind her. She pulled out his phone, immediately typing in everything she knew about Cage Wallace and Lorelei Tsing, and explaining that there were people being held against their will. She blinked a few times, trying to remember Marcus’ phone number. Then, she sent it to Marcus, to her mother, to everyone on Roan’s contact list. She put her ear to the door, hearing Roan groan.

She had just a minute or two more. She tried to think if there was anyone else she could reach out to. She knew she couldn’t contact the police, because they would take all of them, leaving everyone back in the cells vulnerable to whatever Lorelei was capable of.

So, she looked up Bellamy’s sister, Octavia, before looking up Murphy’s girlfriend, Emori. She tried to think if Echo had ever mentioned a loved one by name, but nothing came to mind. Fuck, Clarke wished she could find something for Echo to hold onto.

Then, Clarke heard a loud thump. She quickly threw Roan’s phone into one of the bathroom drawers, knowing that if Cage found it, she was as good as dead.

“It’s done,” Clarke whispered, as soon as she saw Roan’s unconscious body on her bed.

Cage and Emerson quickly came in through the adjoining door, smirking as they looked at Roan.

“You did better than my last one,” Cage smirked, eyeing Clarke. She shuddered at those words, watching carefully as Emerson pulled out a pill bottle. Then, he put a pill in her hand.

Clarke moved toward her bed, sitting down next to Roan. She put the pill in her mouth, before swallowing. She wanted to scream to Roan that she was sorry… but no apology could ever make up for what Clarke just did to him.

So, she closed her eyes, listening to Emerson and Cage get ready to leave. She reminded herself that when she woke up again, she would hear Bellamy’s voice. That thought gave her enough calm to let her relax, until she drifted off again.


	6. Pyramus and Thisbe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter. I know character deaths are rough, and I don't plan on having anymore. So, let out a breath.
> 
> Anyways, get ready for Bellamy "losing it a little" Blake. This chapter has the scene that inspired the rest of the story... so, I'm really excited to see what you guys think of it.

“Bellamy, please,” he heard Lorelei’s voice, but he kept glaring at the one-way mirror that he knew she was on the other side of.

“Where is Clarke?” he asked again, refusing to complete the exam until she answered him.

“As soon as you finish this, you get to rest in your cell.” He clenched his jaw, leaning back against the treadmill, as he kept glaring in her direction.

“Where did Cage take Clarke?” he asked again, trying to keep from snarling. Then, he heard the gas start in the room.

 

When he woke up, he heard Murphy and Echo arguing.

“Lorelei wouldn’t say anything,” he groaned, putting his hands over his face. He was so fucking exhausted. It had been days since Clarke was taken, and he knew that Cage had her, since they hadn’t seen or heard from Cage in the same amount of time.

“At least we know she isn’t dead,” Murphy said, as Bellamy shakily stood up.

“Bellamy, you need to stop harassing Lorelei about this. She can’t tell you anything, and when Cage finds out that you’re messing with his research, he’s gonna take that out on all of us,” Echo snapped, and Bellamy hit her wall.

“Besides, we all know what Cage is doing with Clarke right now,” Murphy said quietly, and Bellamy started shaking his head frantically. He didn’t want to think about that. Not for Clarke.

“He’s just angry that it wasn’t me instead,” Echo spat, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut.

“No, I’m not, Echo,” he reassured. He would be just as upset if it was Echo.

“It was never going to be you, anyways. Clarke was the perfect person for the job,” Murphy said, and Bellamy’s head shot up angrily.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he growled, and Murphy started groaning loudly.

“Chill out, Romeo.”

“Bellamy, think about it,” Echo said calmly, as he rested his head against the wall that he shared with Clarke. “He couldn’t trust any of us with this task. Each of us would have found a way to run, but Clarke wouldn’t.”

“Of course, she would run if given the opportunity,” Bellamy snapped, because Clarke was clever and crafty… she would get out of there if she could.

“And who would get punished if she ran?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy cocked his head to the side, slightly confused by the question. “We would, dumbass. Now, if given the chance to go be with Emori, I would hang all of you out to dry in a heartbeat. Echo would do the same, and I think deep down, you would too, if it meant getting to see your sister again.”

Bellamy shook his head… because he wouldn’t make that choice. He loved his sister more than anything. But, he also knew that she could take care of herself. He couldn’t choose his life over the others.

“But, Clarke doesn’t really have anyone on the outside she cares about as much as, well, you know,” Murphy continued, but before Bellamy could say something, he heard one of the doors open. He ran to his corner, only to realize that the noise wasn’t coming from Clarke’s cell… it was coming from Wells’ old cell.

“Cage, will you please tell Bellamy that Clarke is fine,” Murphy yelled, before he heard a loud thump onto the bed. Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, realizing that even if Clarke came back, she was going to be stuck next to the person who she tricked… and it was going to destroy her.

“She’s still alive,” he heard Cage say, and Bellamy let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “She should be back as soon as she’s better.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened at that, wondering what the hell she had to get better from.

“Get better from what?” Echo shouted, before the door slammed shut.

“Bellamy, breathe,” he heard Murphy say, as he sunk down to the floor, his back pressed against Clarke’s wall.

“Hey, she’s alive. And, clearly, he’s not killing her, since he’s trying to make her get better,” Echo said quickly. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what Clarke’s voice sounded like, trying to recall the last thing she said to him.

 

Bellamy woke up to the sound of screaming. His head jerked up when he realized it wasn’t Echo.

“Where the fuck am I?” the voice screamed, pounding on the walls.

“I wish I could answer that, but honestly, we have no clue,” Murphy groaned, and Bellamy heard Echo start to get up.

“Get me out!” he screamed, clanging even louder than before.

“He’s gonna have a nervous breakdown. I’m calling it,” Murphy muttered.

“Hey, what is your name?” Bellamy shouted.

“Roan,” he huffed. “Who are you people?”

“You people?” Murphy said.

“Stop, Murphy,” Bellamy snapped. “I’m Bellamy. I’ve been here for probably three years now. A man named Cage Wallace abducted us all, including you.”

“No, I don’t know anyone by that name,” Roan snapped.

“More likely, the last thing you remember is a beautiful blonde, right?” Echo said, and Bellamy’s chest tightened.

“Clarke?” he said, and Bellamy thought he was going to be sick. “Is she here?” he shouted.

“Allegedly, yes. She’s usually in the cell on the other side of you,” Murphy said, and Roan was silent for a few moments.

“Roan, I’m gonna need you to stay calm while I explain this to you,” Echo explained, and Bellamy could hear her footsteps move toward the center. “Cage Wallace has been doing shady experiments on us for years. Sometimes, we die in here. He chose you to take our friend Wells’ place,” she said calmly, as Bellamy retreated to his bed. “He forced Clarke to get close to you so she could drug you. Then, he dragged the two of you back here.”

Bellamy pushed his body closer to the wall, pressing his ear to the corner, hoping to hear the sound of Clarke’s breathing. He knew she wasn’t there… but, fuck, he wanted her to be.

He could hear Roan asking questions, while Murphy and Echo calmly explained what they knew. He knew he should be helping them, like he always did. But, he couldn’t will himself to move. He had never felt as lonely as he did in this moment.

 

Another day passed, and still no Clarke. Both Murphy and Echo had been dragged in for experimentation, and both said they would refuse to work with Lorelei unless she told them what happened to Clarke.

That left Bellamy and Roan alone. For a few hours, Roan kept to himself, and Bellamy walked the perimeter of his cell.

“Murphy says you love her,” he heard Roan say quietly. Bellamy’s head whipped up in the direction of the voice.

“What?” he snapped.

“Clarke,” Roan said, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, running his fingers through his hair. “He said that you stay up all night telling her stories, that you freak out whenever she is taken out of her cell.”

“Clarke is my best friend,” Bellamy clarified. Then, he heard Roan chuckle. “What?” he snapped a little too harshly.

“So, it doesn’t bother you that I’ve kissed your best friend?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Bellamy clenched his fist together tightly, with a mental image of Clarke and this random guy together. He knew exactly what Roma had to do… and the thought of Clarke doing the same thing made him sick to his stomach.

“Careful, Roan,” Bellamy heard a third voice say, followed by the sound of Murphy’s door opening. Fucking Cage. “It’ll be harder for you in here if you piss off Mr. Blake.”

“Are you Cage?” Roan shouted, and Bellamy forced himself to take a deep breath… reminding himself that Clarke didn’t get to choose Roan. She was forced into it. His real anger was with Cage, not Roan, not Clarke.

“Yes, I am,” Cage said smugly, and then Bellamy heard a thud, knowing that Murphy was now back.

“What the hell is this?” Roan said frantically, and Bellamy forced himself to take another breath. He had forgotten about how bad people were in their first week, especially since Clarke had stayed so calm. Then again, Bellamy knew he and Wells had a lot to do with that.

Then, he heard Murphy’s door slam shut. A few seconds later, he heard Echo’s door open. He let out a relieved sigh, knowing that for now, his friends were still safe.

“Now, Bellamy, how long do you three think you can keep messing with my research?” Cage asked calmly, and Bellamy started hitting the back of his head into the wall. Then, he heard Echo’s thud. “There will be consequences. And, it’ll get worse the longer you keep this up. Do you understand?” he growled.

“Yes,” Bellamy muttered, before hearing the door slam shut.

He and Roan sat there in silence for a few moments, and Bellamy hoped that Cage was going to come back with Clarke, but he never came.

“You said you’ve been here for three years?” Roan asked, and Bellamy gave him an affirmative grunt, as he resumed walking the perimeter of his cell. “How long do most people stay alive here?”

“Several months. I think Wells might have been here a year,” Bellamy muttered.

“And Clarke?”

“I think a year,” he mumbled, not adding in that it felt like he had known her longer than that.

“I know she’s your friend, but she did trick me into getting condemned,” he growled, and Bellamy’s head snapped up.

“She did it to save the rest of us. She didn’t have a choice,” Bellamy snapped.

“She had a choice,” Roan snapped back, and Bellamy clenched his fists again. Then, he punched his wall, since he couldn’t get his anger out any other way. “God, what is your problem with me? I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“You’ve gotten to see her!” Bellamy yelled, before hitting his wall again. “You touched her. You know what she looks like, what she feels like. And, all I’ll ever get is to hear her voice!” he snapped, and the tears began flowing. Bellamy sank to the floor, wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

“Bellamy,” Roan said, more quietly.

“I know that Clarke got you trapped here. And you get to be pissed about it. But, I don’t want to hear about it. Especially not when you’ve gotten more than I’ll ever get with her,” Bellamy confessed, throwing his head back to rest it on the wall.

Roan didn’t speak for a while, as Bellamy tried to pull himself together. The last thing he needed was for Murphy and Echo to wake up and start roasting him for crying like this.

“And, you say she’s just your best friend,” Roan muttered. Bellamy was going to snap back at him, tell him off and all that… but, the gas started in his cell, and it sounded like it was in Roan’s too. “What the fuck?” Roan yelled, as Bellamy pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth, sinking farther into the ground.

 

When Bellamy woke up, his cell looked different… lighter, almost. He was on his stomach on the cold ground, but didn’t feel achy or anything. He wondered if Cage even took him out for an experiment.

“Oh good, he’s up,” he heard Murphy groan, and Bellamy sat up. He turned around to snap at Murphy, but then, Bellamy actually saw Murphy. His eyes widened, as he glanced around. All his walls were clear again. He could see the rest of the basement they were trapped in, the door that Cage came in and out of… things he hadn’t seen in years. He turned back to look at Clarke’s cell, but she wasn’t there. His heart sank at the sight of her empty bed, pressed right up against the wall like his was.

He looked up to see who he assumed was Roan staring back at him with an annoyed expression on his face. Then, Bellamy’s eyes flickered to Murphy, who shot him finger guns. Then, he looked at Echo, who looked way too tired considering they had all been knocked out for a while.

“What the hell is this?” Bellamy growled, as he made another turn around his cell.

“No fucking clue. We were hoping you would have a guess,” Murphy said.

“What’s the big deal?” Roan asked, and Bellamy refrained from rolling his eyes.

“Oh good. You all are finally awake,” he heard Cage shout, and Bellamy whipped his head around to see Cage practically sprint down the steps by the exit door. Bellamy clenched his jaw, unnerved by the smile on Cage’s face.

“What gives, Wallace?” Echo snapped.

“I thought I made it quite clear that there would be consequences if anyone messed with my research,” Cage said, and Bellamy furrowed his brows.

“How is this a consequence? Before, we couldn’t even see each other,” Roan groaned.

“Because now we get to watch each other die again,” Murphy growled at Roan, but Bellamy kept his eyes fixed on Cage, who was eyeing Bellamy with… amusement.

“Yes, you can ask Bellamy and Murphy all about it. I remember Roma’s death being particularly difficult for Bellamy to watch,” Cage said smugly, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, trying to get that memory out of his head. “Which reminds me, there is supposed to be five of you in here, isn’t there?” Bellamy’s eyes flickered open again, horrified at how amused Cage looked with himself.

“Bellamy, stop listening to him,” he heard Echo whisper, and he knew he should step back toward their corner, to let her talk him down. But, Bellamy also knew that if he could, he would snap Cage’s neck in a heartbeat, consequences be damned.

“Bellamy, please,” Murphy said, and Bellamy forced himself to turn and go toward Echo. He pressed his head into the corner, his hands shaking slightly against the glass.

“Clarke is okay. He is just trying to make a point. He isn’t going to hurt Clarke,” Echo reassured, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut.

“Now, Roan, I know you’re new here, but I do hope that you’ll act more like Clarke than like the rest of them. We will have less problems that way,” Cage said, and it took all the strength Bellamy had to stay where he was, and focus on Echo’s voice. But, then Bellamy heard the exit door open.

He turned around quickly, seeing that Emerson guy walk in, carrying a body. It took Bellamy less than two seconds to sprint to the outside wall of his cell, watching as Cage helped him get the blonde into Clarke’s cell. Bellamy’s heart was pounding, as he stood frozen. All he could do was watch as Emerson set Clarke down on her bed.

“She should be fine now. But, she might be asleep for a bit longer,” he heard Cage say, and if Bellamy’s brain had been more functional in this moment, he might have snapped at him, demanding more information about what happened to her. But, he couldn’t think straight, because this was the first time he had ever seen Clarke, and, despite not being well, she was still more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

He barely registered when her cell door closed, or when Cage and Emerson left. He was too busy sitting on his bed, looking at Clarke through the glass.

“That scrape on her head doesn’t look good,” Roan said, and Bellamy swallowed, noticing the same thing. But, it was darker than a scrape should be… almost black. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her, scanning the rest of her body for any further sign of injury.

“You don’t know how she got hurt?” Echo asked.

“Last thing I remember is Clarke bringing me a drink before heading toward the bathroom,” Roan muttered. “She wasn’t injured then. It had to have happened while I was out.”

As far as Bellamy could tell, the only injury she had was to her head. He racked his brain, trying to figure out how she would get herself hurt. She did everything Cage asked of her, so it’s not like he would lash out at her.

“Clarke, I need you to wake up,” Bellamy whispered, resting his shoulder against the glass and looking down at her. Her pale lips were parted slightly, and he could hear the faint sound of her breathing.

“If she dies in here, Bellamy is as good as gone,” he heard Murphy whisper, and he clenched his fist, not turning to look at him. Instead, he angled himself so his back was toward Murphy and Echo. He couldn’t listen to them. Clarke was going to be fine.

 

“You need to sleep,” Echo groaned, but Bellamy kept his back to her. His eyes were starting to get sore from being awake for too long, but he could sleep later.

“Not until Clarke wakes up,” he muttered, and Echo let out a huff. “I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

“I will stay up for you,” Echo snapped, but Bellamy waved her off. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways.

“God, what happened to you, Clarke?” Bellamy whispered. She hadn’t even moved in her sleep. Her head was still slightly tilted toward him, her golden hair messily covering her pillow. The only way he knew she was alive was by the way her chest slowly rose and fell.

He glanced over his shoulder, to see Echo back in her bed. Roan and Murphy had gone to sleep a long time ago, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke.

“You know, I’m starting to run out of stories for you,” he murmured, as he adjusted himself, his neck started to get sore from that position. “I mean, I could start telling you the plots of Shakespearian plays, since I know you didn’t pay attention in your English classes. I guess that’s one good thing that came from you sleeping in class or doodling,” he teased, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. But, that might just be why he kept talking to her. He could say whatever he was thinking without fearing her response.

“Romeo and Juliet was Octavia’s favorite, which always pissed me off. It took me years to convince her that it wasn’t really a love story. I know you’re not crazy about it either, since you’ve ranted to me about one of the movie versions you watched,” he smirked, before lying down on his side, facing her. “I would tell O that it was based on Pyramus and Thisbe… which was probably a mistake. Turns out, she liked that story even better. She had a thing for doomed love, I guess.”

He let out a sigh, working extra hard not to let his mind drift to Octavia too much. Bellamy’s heart ached enough already.

“Or maybe it was just the idea that two people could love each other even though they were doomed. But, given how my life turned out, I’m sure you can guess why these tragic love stories piss me off so much,” he muttered, glancing at Clarke again. She looked so soft and small next to him, and all he wanted to do was brush that one stray strand of hair out of her face. But, he couldn’t.

“I remember once telling Octavia that it was dumb to think that a stupid wall could keep Pyramus and Thisbe apart… God, irony is a bitch,” he chuckled, a bit darkly. “I’m beginning to think my sister has always been smarter than me. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate Romeo and Juliet, and Pyramus and Thisbe isn’t much better. But, I have to admit, they seem less crazy to me now. Something about two people who loved each other so much that not even a wall could keep them from falling.”

Bellamy stopped speaking when he heard someone shifting. His head popped up, seeing Roan roll his eyes at Bellamy. Bellamy narrowed his eyes back at him, before he turned on his side, his back now facing Bellamy and Clarke.

“I wonder if it would have made a difference to them if they knew they were both going to die. If they would stop meeting by that wall, if they would stop talking to each other late at night, confessing things they would normally never speak aloud,” he mused, sliding closer to the clear wall.

“I’d like to think it wouldn’t change things. That Pyramus would be as close to Thisbe as he possibly could be, that he would do whatever he could to comfort her, even if he never got to hold her. Because, Pyramus loved Thisbe, more than he loved his own life,” he whispered, even though it felt more like a confession.

His eyes were getting heavy with exhaustion, since he had hardly slept since Clarke had been taken. He told himself that he was going to rest his eyes for just a moment. But, the sounds of Clarke’s breathing lulled him to sleep.

 

When Bellamy awoke, he heard Echo and Roan talking. He let out a groan as he sat up, frantically looking to his side to see Clarke still unconscious next to him.

“So much for staying up all night creepily staring at your girlfriend,” Murphy muttered from the back of his cell, and Bellamy raised his middle finger in his direction.

“My scrapes always look like that,” he heard Roan whisper, and Bellamy’s ears perked up.

“What are you two talking about?” Bellamy asked, and Echo and Roan’s heads turned in his direction.

“The scrape on Clarke’s head. Roan’s look like hers,” Echo said, but Bellamy wasn’t connecting the dots. He glanced back at Clarke, trying to figure out what the big deal was.

“I’m just trying to tell you that it looks normal,” Roan muttered.

“Nope. That’s not normal, dude. It should be more red than black,” Murphy jumped in, and Bellamy saw what they were talking about. He just assumed that there was some kind of treatment they put on it that made it look so dark.

“Whenever I’ve cut myself, it always looked like that. Trust me, it’s nothing to be worried about,” Roan groaned, before throwing himself onto his bed.

“Another example of me needing to look up Web M.D. to prove you wrong,” Murphy muttered, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Oh, well let me pull it up on my phone. Oh wait, I can’t, because Cage stole my phone!” Roan growled, and Bellamy saw Echo start to say something, before she was interrupted.

“Cage didn’t steal your phone,” Clarke murmured, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered back to her, his eyes wider than they had ever been before. Her eyes were still closed, but she was moving slightly… trying to wake up. “I did.”

“You’re also the reason I couldn’t call for help?” Roan shouted, and Clarke sleepily started to rub her eyes.

“Cage would have taken your phone anyway,” Echo snapped back.

Then, Clarke’s eyes started to flutter open. She looked a little too dazed, especially as she tried to sit up. She clenched her eyes shut again, bracing her hand on the wall… just inches away from where Bellamy’s was. Her eyes opened again, and Bellamy could see the confusion across her face. She didn’t know about the clear glass… so, she probably had no idea where she was.

He watched her closely as she examined her cell, her eyes narrowing at her bed. He could hear the faint sound of Echo and Roan arguing about his phone, but it was drowned out by the pounding in his chest.

Finally, her beautiful blue eyes flickered up to his, and Bellamy sucked in a breath. For half a second, he felt like he was going to throw up… because, Clarke didn’t look like she recognized him. She glanced away, looking at the other cells with confusion. Then, her eyes met Bellamy’s again.

“Did I die?” she asked, almost blankly, and now, Bellamy was certain that she didn’t know it was him. Whatever happened to her head was making it hard for her to put the pieces together. He could see the wheels turning in her head, could see her struggle to make sense of what she saw.

“No, princess,” Bellamy replied, and her eyes immediately melted in recognition. The corners of her mouth turned upward slightly, giving him the gift of seeing her smile for the first time. And, Bellamy knew there was nothing else on this earth that could compare to the beautiful sight in front of him.


	7. Happy Endings

She remembered the van ride, seeing Roan lying next to her. She remembered Emerson putting another pill into her mouth. At least, she thought that she remembered that.

Her mind was almost blank for what felt like years, only occasionally interrupted by the brightness of an office, by the sound of Lorelei and Cage screaming at each other. No, that couldn’t be right. That wouldn’t make sense.

The next time she woke up, all she could feel was pain, her brain screaming at her that something was wrong. She tried to keep her eyes open, barely seeing Cage and Emerson look at her with a panicked look in their eyes.

Then, she fell back asleep. In her dreams, someone kept asking her to wake up. She couldn’t see anything, of course, but she heard a lot of screaming. And, the longer she was asleep, the more she felt like she wasn’t asleep at all… that she had finally given up and it was all over.

She snapped out of it when she heard Roan’s angry voice. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy for it all to be over. She needed to pay for what she did to him first.

“Oh, well let me pull it up on my phone. Oh wait, I can’t, because Cage stole my phone!” he yelled, and Clarke tried to open her eyes… but she was too fucking tired.

“Cage didn’t steal your phone,” she mumbled, trying to move her head… but it hurt too much. “I did.”

“You’re also the reason I couldn’t call for help?” he shouted, and Clarke tried to force herself to wake up, rubbing her eyes lazily.

“Cage would have taken your phone anyway,” Echo snapped, and Clarke slowly opened her eyes. Everything was too blurry, too bright. None of this was right. This didn’t feel like her cell at all.

She struggled to sit up, even though it felt like everything was spinning, bracing her hand on the wall next to her. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to tune out Echo and Roan’s bickering. When her eyes were closed, it felt like she was back in her cell… but the second she opened her eyes, everything felt different.

She forced herself to open them again, slowly turning her head to look around. She could see the floor, which looked the same. Her toilet was in the same place, the food pellets were where they normally were. But, this couldn’t be her cell. She could see a blurry figure looking at her to her left. Then, she tried to look to her right… and she knew she couldn’t be in her cell. Maybe she was dreaming again.

There was a man not inches away from her, someone she had never seen before. She kept her eyes fixed on him, waiting for the blurriness to fade. He had dark, curly hair, dark eyes, and he was looking like he was about to cry. She blinked a few times, trying to understand what was going on… why he looked like he was on the brink of tears.

Then, she remembered that she had seen another blurry figure. She turned her head again, a little too quickly this time, and, fuck, it hurt. But, she started to recognize the other blurry figure. It was Roan, which made sense because she had heard his voice earlier… which meant that Echo was also here, unless it was a dream.

She glanced around at the other cells, now counting four people, all pretty spread out. But, she couldn’t be back in her cell. She couldn’t see people in her cell.

She glanced back at the man who was closest to her, and memories started flooding back to her. She took Roan’s phone… and Cage must have figured it out. He must have killed her.

“Did I die?” she asked the man, desperate for an answer. She wasn’t sure how she felt about dying. It had been a possibility for so long, and she had pretty much made peace with it. She would only have one regret, after all.

“No, princess,” he replied, and Clarke felt her eyes well up with tears of her own… because that was Bellamy’s voice. She felt herself smile for the first time in way too long, because she was finally seeing Bellamy. Sure, he was a little blurry… but he was right there.

“Clarke, Cage switched it up so we could all see each other again,” she heard Murphy announce, and she tilted her head slightly in confusion.

“Why would he do that?” Clarke asked Bellamy, who let out a huff, before glancing over at Murphy. Clarke leaned her body against the wall, now glancing over at Murphy as well.

“He’s angry with us. While you were gone, we might not have been good test subjects,” Murphy said vaguely, and Clarke knew he was leaving something out.

“Wait, it’s a punishment?” Clarke asked, although she vaguely recalled both Murphy and Bellamy saying that being able to see everyone was a curse.

“Well, being able to see how much you got fucked up certainly isn’t pleasant. It’s a reminder that we could all die at any moment,” Echo said, but Clarke felt even more confused. She raised her hand up to her head, feeling something strange on her forehead. She glanced over at Bellamy, hoping for some kind of answer, but he looked just as confused as she did.

“What happened to me?” she asked.

“We were hoping you knew,” Murphy replied, and Clarke felt her breathing become shallower.

“Clarke, you have a huge, black gash on your forehead,” Bellamy said calmly, and Clarke gently closed her eyes, resting her head on the wall. It couldn’t be that bad, then. Maybe a head injury. But, they were only freaking out because they hadn’t seen what Clarke’s injuries always looked like.

“Like I said, it’s really not that strange. When I get scrapes, they look just like that,” Roan groaned, and Clarke’s eyes flickered open before she turned and looked at him.

“There is no way they look like this,” Clarke snapped, and Roan turned to look at her, bracing his hands on the wall, as his eyes narrowed at her.

“What the fuck is going on?” she heard Echo whisper.

“No clue,” Bellamy whispered back, but Clarke kept studying Roan’s intense face.

“Roan, what color is your blood?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“It’s red, like everyone else’s, Clarke,” Murphy snapped.

“What color is yours, Clarke?” Roan asked with a smirk. Clarke closed her eyes, trying to process this. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Roan seemed to have the same condition Clarke did… even though he was the first person she had ever met who also had it. And, Bellamy said that everyone Cage brought in had some connection to Becca.

Then, she remembered Echo and Bellamy talking about how they had black dots on their arms… and she wondered if those were from where Cage had drawn blood.

“Bell, what color is your blood?” Clarke asked, turning back to look at him, but he had a confused look on his face.

“Red, obviously. What is going on?” he asked, before his eyes flickered up to Roan.

“Push up your sleeve,” Clarke ordered, and Bellamy complied with a slight grunt… and, there it was. Then, she turned back to Roan. “Did Becca make your blood turn black?” she asked.

“Yeah, she called it nightblood. I had some bad exposure to radiation back when I was eight, and by the time I was better, my blood had changed colors,” Roan said, narrowing his eyes at Clarke, still smirking.

“Clarke,” she heard Bellamy say, and she turned around to look at him.

“I figured out what Cage is after,” she said with a weak smile, before pressing her forehead to the wall, feeling a bit dizzy.

 

Clarke must have passed out. She really wasn’t sure what happened, but she woke up on her side… and her head was pounding. Her eyes flickered open to see Bellamy sitting up in his bed, looking down at her.

“What happened?” Clarke mumbled, and Bellamy sighed.

“Well, we kept talking for a while about the whole nightblood theory, and you passed out,” he said sternly, raising an eyebrow at Clarke.

“Sorry,” she whispered, before sitting herself up slowly. She noticed that Murphy wasn’t in his cell anymore.

“How did you hurt your head, Clarke?” he asked, as she leaned into the wall.

“Don’t know,” she said, furrowing her brows as she tried to remember. But, so much of what must have happened was blurred out.

“Well, to get you up to speed, we figured out that you got nightblood when you had that accident all those years ago. We don’t think Wells had it, because Echo and I only started getting these spots after you arrived. And, for some reason, Cage hasn’t messed around with Murphy’s blood,” he said, and then Clarke heard a clang from another cell. She glanced up to see Roan shaking his hand, like he just hit something.

“I thought I was born with it. Or, that’s what my mom told me,” Clarke murmured, looking back at Bellamy, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was glaring in Roan’s direction. “Bellamy.”

His eyes flickered back to hers, softening almost immediately, and Clarke could feel her heart pounding. “Sorry,” he muttered, before his eyes dropped down to his hands. And Clarke felt the absence of his tender eyes instantly. Then, he shook his head slightly, and Clarke was confused as to what was in his head. “Um, so before you passed out, you said something about taking Roan’s phone,” he continued, and Clarke heard Roan stop pacing. She even noticed Echo start to move over toward Bellamy’s cell wall.

“Yeah, I knew that Cage would take it anyway,” she started to explain. She glanced back at Roan, whose eyes were narrowed at her. “So, before Roan got knocked out, I took it into the bathroom and sent a text to everyone in his contact list, and my mom and stepdad, listing everything I could think of that would be helpful for finding us,” she said carefully, watching Bellamy’s expression closely to see how he would react. “Um, I gave them the names of Cage and Lorelei and Emerson, along with all of our names, where we were taken from, and so on. Then, I threw Roan’s phone in the bathroom drawer so Cage wouldn’t find it.”

“Holy shit,” Echo said, almost excitedly. But, Clarke kept her eyes on Bellamy, who was working through this in his head. Clarke glanced back at Roan, who had his head cocked, eyeing her carefully.

“Cage would have been too worried about getting you and Roan out of there, that he wouldn’t have bothered to suspect something like that,” Bellamy said, and Clarke turned back toward him, seeing him smirk slightly.

“Considering what Clarke pulled with me, I think he’d be a little suspicious of her,” Roan snapped, and Clarke’s chest tightened up.

“No one suspects the pretty teenager. You didn’t,” Echo retorted with a smug look on her face. Clarke glanced up at Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him give a tense look in Roan’s direction. Clarke let out a sigh, resting her forehead against the wall… realizing why Bellamy had been acting so off. It was because of Roan.

 

Bellamy and Clarke hardly spoke that night… probably because Clarke was having a hard time keeping up with what anyone was saying. Her brain kept going fuzzy, and she constantly felt herself drifting off.

She laid on her side, facing Bellamy, as he did the same. She couldn’t get over how tenderly he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that. She wondered if his eyes looked so gentle before… when he couldn’t see her.

Occasionally, he looked like he wanted to say something or ask her something, but he kept shutting his mouth or sighing.

It was hard for Clarke to give in and close her eyes, since she was terrified she would wake up and the wall wouldn’t be clear anymore. But, eventually, her exhaustion won over, and she drifted off the sleep, knowing that Bellamy was watching over her.

When she woke up, he was gone. She was panicked for a moment, until she saw that Echo was also gone. That was normal… which meant that Bellamy was probably fine.

She glanced over at Murphy, who had been asleep since Cage brought him back yesterday. Then, she glanced over at Roan, who was walking the perimeter of his cell. He noticed her looking at him, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Roan, I’m sorry,” Clarke said, wondering why that wasn’t the first thing out of her mouth yesterday.

“You’re not sorry. You’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he growled, as Clarke tried to push herself out of her bed.

“You don’t understand—”

“No, I do. If you didn’t go through with it, Cage would have killed Bellamy,” he said, and Clarke’s stomach started to turn at those words.

“Or Echo or Murphy,” she corrected, since Cage had never been explicit about who would be punished for her actions.

“You and I both know he would have killed Bellamy. Cage isn’t stupid, Clarke,” he snapped, as Clarke walked over toward him, trying to ignore those words. “Everyone can see how you two pressed your beds as close as you could to each other, how you stay up talking to each other, how protective he is of you. Cage would have punished you in the way that would hurt the most.”

“Roan, I am still sorry that I—”

“No, you’re not,” he interrupted, cocking his head slightly to the side. “You chose to bring me here so you could keep him. And, I guarantee it’s a choice you would make again.” His eyes were intense as he stared at her.

“You’re right,” Clarke confessed, leaning against the back wall, glancing up at him. “I would do it all again. But, I feel horrible about what I’ve done to you.”

“Well, that doesn’t do me any good, now does it?” he snapped, before he resumed walking the perimeter of his cell.

“The pellets get easier to eat over time. I figured out that if you eat them quickly when you’re first starting out, you gag less,” she offered, and he whipped his head around to glare at her. Clarke clenched her eyes shut, trying to think of something else she had learned that would make his life easier. “Um, Wells pushed his bed far away from Murphy’s wall so that his snoring wouldn’t wake him up in the night.”

“What are you doing, Clarke?” Roan asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Trying to help,” she shrugged, but he was still listening to her. So, she kept talking. “Don’t bother tracking the days, because you’ll get gassed and drugged so much that it won’t be accurate. Just steal glances at the calendar during your psych exams. Um, when Murphy and Bellamy start arguing, don’t try to mediate. Murphy doesn’t listen to reason and Bellamy hates being wrong. There’s no way to win there.”

“What about with Echo and Murphy?” he asked, looking genuinely invested in what Clarke was saying.

“If you’re bored, go for it. It’s kind of fun telling them both how dumb they are. But, if you’re having a bad day, don’t. They will both come after you, and it really sucks when you’re already depressed,” she suggested, and he nodded along. “And, if you whisper in the back corners, the whole group won’t hear you… just a muffled sound. Whereas, the front corners are the best place to go when you want everyone to hear you.”

“Clarke,” Roan said seriously, eyeing her carefully. “I still don’t forgive you.”

“I know,” Clarke conceded, because there was no way he could forgive her for what she took from him. “But, if help comes and you get out, will you at least be indifferent towards me?” she had to ask with a smirk.

“Clarke, I could be dead before the people you contacted find us,” he replied with a bleak expression on his face.

“He went to a lot of effort to find you. And, you’re probably the last one of us that he would let die,” Clarke said seriously, which caught Roan’s attention.

“And who do you think will be next?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Me,” she said, before turning around and moving back to her bed.

 

She sat propped up in her bed, waiting patiently for Bellamy to wake back up. Cage had brought him back about an hour ago, and Echo had already woken up.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Roan groaned, lying on his back on his bed.

“Oh, come on. All I’ve learned about Clarke’s little adventure is that she’s nineteen now and that she stole your phone,” Murphy said, tapping on Roan’s wall like an annoying little brother.

“Why are you so interested in what happened?” Roan snapped, narrowing his eyes at Murphy.

“He wants the sex details before Bellamy wakes up,” Echo said, and Clarke’s head snapped in her direction.

“We didn’t have sex,” Roan clarified, and Clarke swears Murphy started smirking.

“Princess’ virtue is still intact, I see,” he teased, and Clarke felt her face flush.

“I’m not a virgin, Murphy,” Clarke groaned, throwing her head back.

“Leave Clarke alone,” she heard Bellamy growl, causing her to jump. His eyes were still closed, but he was starting to wake up.

“Oh, come on. I finally get to hear something scandalous about Clarke, and you wake up and ruin it,” Echo groaned, throwing herself back onto her bed.

“So, Clarke, who all have you banged?” Murphy teased, but Clarke saw Bellamy grip the side of his bed tightly, the tension clear in his arm.

“I’m checking out of this,” Roan said quietly, before turning over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow over his head.

“The list is either really long or it’s just one person,” Echo chimed in, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered up to meet Clarke’s, almost asking her if she wanted him to shut them up for her. She smirked at him, and he pushed himself up.

“Echo had a sex dream about Cage last week, and Murphy had his first kiss with his cousin,” Bellamy announced smugly.

“What the fuck?” Echo shouted.

“I told you that privately!” Murphy growled, and Bellamy chuckled, as he laid back down next to Clarke.

“That’s seriously disgusting, Murphy,” Echo muttered.

“At least I’m not fantasizing about Cage’s dick,” Murphy retorted.

“He’s literally the only man I’ve seen in a year. And I was fucking asleep!” Echo shouted, and Clarke covered her mouth to keep from laughing, sinking down into her bed, seeing Bellamy still chuckling.

“They’re going to kill you,” Clarke whispered, and he rolled his eyes playfully, before grinning back at her.

“Worth it,” he smirked.

 

It took a while for things to settle down, for the others to all drift off to sleep. Clarke hadn’t moved, of course, and neither had Bellamy.

“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke’s eyes flickered up to meet his.

“What?” she whispered, even though she had a pretty good idea of what it was that was bothering him.

His eyes dropped down slightly, just barely avoiding making eye contact. Clarke found herself sliding closer to him, even though there were only inches between her and the wall already. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he said, closing his eyes gently, and Clarke bit her lip in anticipation. “What happened while you were gone?”

“Um, I woke up in a hotel room, and you already know what Cage asked me to do,” she whispered, but the question was still in Bellamy’s eyes. “I, uh, drugged him before anything actually happened,” she stuttered, now looking down at her hand gripping onto the thin sheet of her bed. She could feel his eyes on her, but she was scared to look up.

She wasn’t sure what to expect from Bellamy. On one hand, it wasn’t like they stayed up all night professing their feelings to each other. Both of them were too scared to say anything too real… anything that would haunt them if they lost each other.

But, even though they hadn’t said anything… it felt like it had already been said. How he would call out for her when the gas started in her cell, or how she would ask him to tell her everything about his life. How she started crying when Bellamy came back after being gone for too long, or how he begged her to keep talking to him until he fell asleep after a particularly horrifying day with Cage.

And, Clarke was terrified that he saw her differently now.

“But, you two kissed, right?” Bellamy prodded, and Clarke nodded, still not looking up at him. “How did it feel?”

Clarke’s eyes flickered up to meet his, startled by that question. His eyes looked so desperate, searching hers for some kind of answer. “Wrong,” was all Clarke could say, and he nodded.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Clarke could tell that Bellamy’s brain was overworking itself, and she would give anything to be able to see into his head for just a moment… to see what exactly it was that was bothering him. Because, Clarke was jumping to the conclusion that she was the problem… that he saw her differently before she tricked Roan. And now, she wasn’t the same.

“I should have said this before you left, or maybe I thought you already knew,” he whispered, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “But, if you have the chance to get away from here, I want you to take it. Don’t think about what happens to us. Or to me. Just take care of yourself.”

“What?” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut and sighed.

“You should have taken off the second you were out of Cage’s sight, Clarke,” he groaned, and Clarke couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth. “You could have gone home, gotten back to your family… that’s a better chance than the rest of us had.”

“You do know what would have happened to you if I had done that, right?” Clarke replied, and his eyes opened again to meet hers, as he leaned forward.

“Yeah, I do. And, I still wish you would have tried to get away,” he said sternly, as Clarke shook her head. “Clarke, look at me,” he ordered, and her eyes flickered back to his. “I would meet my fate happily if it meant that you got out of here,” he whispered, almost like he was pleading with her. His eyes were wide, staring at her with more affection than Clarke had been shown by anyone before him. She didn’t even notice the tears start to escape her eyes, until his expression melted slightly.

She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, trying to get her thoughts together. “Well, I had to come home, Bell,” she murmured, resting her head back down on her pillow.

“Kind of bleak that you’ve come to think of this prison as your home,” Bellamy joked, and Clarke bit her lip.

“That’s not what I was talking about,” she whispered, feeling a few more tears form on her eyelids.

“Clarke, hey,” he whispered back, and she heard him scoot closer toward her, his hand resting on the wall. “Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, and Clarke’s eyes met his again. Clarke swallowed, nodding slightly. He rested his head back on his pillow, but his hand stayed on the glass. Clarke put her hand right where his was, smirking at how small her hand looked compared to his. She could only imagine how wonderful it would feel for him to hold her hand.

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, suddenly remembering something else from her time out of the cells. “When I had Roan’s phone, I looked up your sister.” His head popped up, his eyes widening as he waited for Clarke to keep talking. “She’s okay,” Clarke reassured, loving the beautiful grin that grew on his lips. “She got accepted into Ark U, and she starts next fall. I think she has a job as a waitress after school. And, I think she has a boyfriend, but it doesn’t look super serious. Plus, I think she needs to update her privacy settings on her Facebook, because it was a little too easy for me to creep on her.”

Clarke could see Bellamy tear up, something he usually only did when he thought about Octavia. But, he also looked more relieved than she had ever seen him. She could only imagine how much he worried about her, especially since he was solely responsible for her. She knew that when he was beating himself over ending up trapped here… it was really about his fear that Octavia would suffer for it.

Then, she saw Bellamy roll onto his back, eyes closed, with a small smile on his face. It was such a sweet sight.

“Clarke,” he finally whispered, turning his head to look at her. “Are you telling me that while you were being all sneaky and sending out an SOS to everyone you could, you found the time to look up my sister?” he asked, with a small smirk.

“I had an extra minute while I waited for him to knock out, and I thought you’d feel better if you knew what she was up to,” Clarke replied with a shrug, as Bellamy rolled back toward her.

“Princess, I guarantee you were hyperventilating while on that phone, terrified you were going to get caught… and you risked it, just so you could give me peace of mind?” he said, shaking his head slightly. Clarke opened her mouth to argue with him, but there wasn’t anything she could say. She wasn’t entirely sure what her mindset was like in those minutes… they were a blur to her, like her body was working on autopilot.

She could see Bellamy start to relax across from her, his eyes focused intensely on hers. “Aren’t you going to tell me a bedtime story?” she teased, and he started chuckling quietly. “What? I’ve missed them.”

“I know, but I’m running out of stories that have happy endings, princess,” he sighed.

“That’s okay. They don’t have to be happy stories,” she reassured, and he raised an eyebrow at her, before letting out another sigh.

“No, you deserve nothing but happy endings,” he replied, matter of fact, and Clarke bit her bottom lip.


	8. Baucis and Philemon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got real choked up while writing this one. Nothing really "tragic" happens, but you'll know the moment when you get there. That being said, this chapter has a kind of cliffhanger-y ending. Angst, with a capital "A."
> 
> Anyways, thanks for all the positive feedback. I would have gotten this chapter up earlier tonight, but I needed a fluff break from all this angst. So between this chapter and the one-shot I uploaded earlier, I've cranked out about 8k tonight, and my hands are starting to cramp. Phew.

It was the fourth time this week that Cage had taken Clarke and brought her back… and Bellamy couldn’t make sense of it. Clarke didn’t seem to have any symptoms when she would come back… except for the symptoms of the concussion that she had mysteriously gotten.

Bellamy kept glancing back at her cell, seeing her lying unconscious on her bed. She would always tell Bellamy everything she could remember from her time with Cage, but it was always him just examining her head and asking her a few questions… but nothing about the nightblood. Bellamy didn’t know a lot about head injuries, so there wasn’t much he could do to help her. But, he was pretty sure that Clarke should remember how she got hurt by now.

“He’s doing it again,” Bellamy heard Murphy groan, and he stopped pacing in his cell to glance over at him. Murphy and Roan were sitting on the ground of their cells, talking to each other with amused expressions on their faces.

“What am I doing?” Bellamy snapped, trying to stay quiet while Echo slept. She had been taken in earlier that day too, and apparently went through a particularly brutal exam.

“Just being Bellamy,” Roan said with a smirk, and Bellamy started groaning.

He kept walking around in his cell, trying to kill time before Clarke woke up. He always felt weird admitting he was bored, especially given the stakes of his situation here. But, it wasn’t like Cage gave them books. All they had were each other. And, with his two neighbors both unconscious, his only remaining potential social partners were Murphy and Roan. Murphy always chose to harass Bellamy these days, since he had been in a particularly foul mood due to the nature of Cage’s current experiments. And Roan… well, now that Bellamy had been stuck with him for a little while, he felt comfortable admitting that he just didn’t like him.

He swore he heard Clarke shift, and he quickly moved over toward their wall. But, from what he could tell, Clarke hadn’t moved. He let out a huff, before resuming his walk.

“It’s like watching a bad soap opera,” Murphy joked, and Bellamy whipped his head back in their direction. “What? Am I wrong?” Murphy asked while he and Roan kept laughing.

“Okay, you two clearly have something to say. What is it?” Bellamy groaned, bracing his hands on the central wall.

“Oh, I have nothing to say,” Roan chuckled, glancing back at Murphy, who was still giggling to himself while shaking his head.

“Murphy,” Bellamy growled.

“Dude, it’s nothing. Like, it shouldn’t be funny. I’ve been listening to you pine over Clarke since she got here. It’s just weird to have a front row seat to it now,” Murphy shrugged, and Bellamy let out a loud growl, before resuming his walk.

“I do not pine,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly.

“It’s just funny to mess with you about it. So serious,” Murphy teased, as Bellamy clenched his jaw, switching directions.

“Although, it is funny to watch you get all jumpy when Clarke talks to Roan,” Echo murmured, and Bellamy shot her a frustrated look as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Not you too,” he pleaded, before Echo shrugged and laid back down. He noticed that Roan and Murphy had scooted back into the corner, now talking about something more serious. He pursed his lips, as he kept walking.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting for Clarke, but it felt like hours before she actually woke up. He almost didn’t notice at first, not until she sleepily sat up, her hair a bit messy from her sleep. She glanced around the cells, and Bellamy realized that she was thinking pretty hard about something.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Bellamy asked, as he sat down on his bed. She blinked a few times, before glancing at him, brows still furrowed.

“When was the last time you saw Lorelei?” Clarke asked, and that question seemed to capture everyone else’s attention.

“Not since before Roan got here…” Bellamy said, trying to recall his last interaction with her.

“I haven’t met Lorelei,” Roan muttered, and Bellamy glanced over at Murphy whose eyes were wide with confusion.

“Murphy and I haven’t seen her since before Roan got here either,” Echo said, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered back to Clarke.

“I think something happened to her,” Clarke whispered.

“No,” Bellamy said, shaking his head. “Cage disappears for weeks at a time too. Lorelei could be gone for any number of reasons.” The others stopped being interested in this conversation, and sunk back into their cells, but Clarke still looked determined. “Clarke.”

Her eyes flickered back to his, and he could see that she was still a bit dazed. “She was here when Roan and I got here. I remember her and Cage yelling at each other,” Clarke murmured, resting her head on the wall.

“Do you remember what they were yelling about?” Bellamy asked, and he could see Clarke trying really hard to remember.

“It’s the blurriest moment,” Clarke muttered, looking defeated, and it broke Bellamy’s heart to see her like this.

“Hey, princess, it’s okay,” he reassured, sliding as close to her as he could.

“No, it’s just right there. I was there one moment, hearing them argue, and then it’s just darkness. Like something knocked me out,” she whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said seriously, because he was starting to figure it out. Her eyes flickered up to his, and his chest ached at the sight. “Could that be when you hurt your head?”

She tilted her head in confusion, but the tears stopped pouring as she thought this over. “Maybe,” she conceded, and he could see her struggle with the strange memories that probably made no sense to her at the moment.

“Come on, lie down with me,” he suggested, trying to find some way of comforting Clarke, even though her thoughts were a bit jumbled. She let out a defeated sigh, but started lowering herself back on her bed, and Bellamy did the same, getting as close to the wall as he could. He smiled softly as Clarke moved closer to him too, and he immediately felt better. He only hoped that she did too.

This was as close as Bellamy would ever get to holding Clarke, he realized. And, it was something they did without knowing what they were doing. They pushed their beds together just because they felt safer being closer to each other. There were moments… beautiful moments… when Bellamy could feel peace, and all of them took place here, even when he couldn’t see her. And, he just hoped she could experience that same peace, even if just for a moment. That he could give that to her, even though he couldn’t give her anything else.

“Will you tell me a story?” she whispered, almost pleading with her voice. He loved that she still asked him, even though he never said no.

“Hmm,” he murmured, trying to think of one he hadn’t told her before… or, at least one he hadn’t told in a while. “So, Zeus and Hermes were dressed up as peasants. I don’t really remember what prompted that decision or if it was just how the story started,” he whispered, and Clarke started to giggle at his little side commentary, and he smirked at her. He knew that she loved it when he threw in his own thoughts about what was going on in these stories, and more often than not, would giggle beautifully at his frustration with various details. “They needed a place to stay, so they decided to go door to door. But, people kind of suck, and literally everyone turned them away.”

“Well, Zeus is kind of a dick,” Clarke remarked, and Bellamy burst out laughing, because she always managed to throw that in when he would tell a story about Zeus.

“But, they didn’t know it was Zeus, so they were just being dicks for no reason, Clarke,” he clarified, struggling to keep his laughter in check. “But, by this point, Zeus and Hermes were really pissed off. They reached the last cottage in the town, owned by Baucis and Philemon. They were a poor, elderly couple, yet, they were far more generous than anyone else that the gods had stumbled upon that night,” he explained, his eyes locked on Clarke’s beautiful, blue eyes. “After a while, Baucis figured out that their new guests were gods, since the wine pitcher stayed full, regardless of how much they all drank. Zeus told Baucis and her husband that they needed to leave the town and to climb the mountain with him and Hermes.”

He heard Murphy mutter something to Echo in the background, but did his best to stay in the moment. “Once the elderly couple made it up the mountain, they discovered that Zeus had destroyed the town, killing all the others who denied him hospitality. And, he had turned their little cottage into a beautiful temple,” he explained, getting excited about approaching his favorite part of the story. He was fairly certain he hadn’t told this one to Clarke yet, especially given how she seemed to be hanging on every word. “Zeus asked them what they would want, for their hospitality. Their wish was that when one of them died, the other would die at the same time, since they couldn’t imagine living for a moment without each other.”

He heard Clarke’s breath catch slightly, but her eyes never left his. “Zeus complied. And, when they both died, he turned them into a pair of trees, whose branches were elaborately intertwined. So, they would never have to spend a second apart,” he whispered, and he could see the ghost of a smile on Clarke’s lips.

“I think that might be my favorite story,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy felt his body surge with heat, overwhelmed by how soft and sweet she looked in this moment. She still had the scrape on her forehead, but her hair was mostly covering it, along with her pillow. Her blue eyes looked so tender as she looked back at him, and all he wanted to do was touch her pink cheeks with his thumb. That would be enough, he thought.

“Yeah, it’s slowly becoming one of my favorites too,” he confessed, and Clarke looked at him quizzically. “It just used to seem cheesy,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

“You think a lot of good stories are cheesy,” Clarke teased, and he started chuckling slightly.

“I know,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “And this one definitely isn’t. I just didn’t realize that before.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Bellamy studied her closely as she fidgeted with her sheet, trying to press out the creases.

“I’d wish for the same thing,” she confessed, and Bellamy swore that for a brief moment, his heart stopped.

There were things he and Clarke never said to each other, some secrets they could never truly confess. One of those secrets was deeply terrifying for Bellamy, and he could imagine it was for Clarke as well. But, she might as well have just confessed it.

“Me too,” he replied, and her eyes softened in response. Bellamy had a lot of wishes, especially where Clarke was concerned. He wanted to touch her, to hold her… just once. He wanted more time with her. He wanted to see her paint, to actually be able to see the concepts and skills that she had described in such loving detail. He wanted to see her smile without her feeling any pain or sadness at the same time. He wanted a chance to really love her, in the way that she deserved.

But, above all else, he wanted to never live in a world that she wasn’t in.

 

Over the weeks, Bellamy started to realize that Clarke was right about Lorelei. None of them had seen her, and Cage had taken over all experimentation. He had to reduce how much work he could do each day, since it was just him in the lab, or occasionally Emerson, who had no idea what he was doing.

Clarke would come back with concerns about Cage, saying that he was acting strange, almost manic. And this continued for weeks.

Then, Echo started claiming the same thing, reporting that he was getting frustrated, impatient almost.

The following week, Roan described an office that sounded a lot like Lorelei’s… but anything Bellamy could remember from her office seemed to be missing from his description.

“I think he killed Lorelei,” Murphy finally said, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered over to Clarke who nodded in agreement.

“He wouldn’t just kill Lorelei,” Bellamy groaned.

“Clarke did say she heard them arguing,” Echo pointed out.

“Plus, he has no problem with keeping us locked up like animals. I feel like murder isn’t too much of a reach,” Roan snapped, raising an eyebrow at Bellamy.

“Maybe the guilt got to her,” Clarke finally said, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her. He knew that the guilt was always there for Lorelei… but, she should have snapped a long time ago.

“There’s got to be something else going on,” Echo groaned, and Bellamy agreed. The increased interactions with Emerson, the manic behavior of Cage, and the absence of Lorelei… something was very, very off.

“He could have killed her because he’s getting close and didn’t want to share the credit,” Murphy suggested, and Roan nodded in agreement… and Bellamy really wasn’t a fan of their new friendship.

“What if Lorelei was going to turn on him? That’s a pretty good motive for murder,” Clarke added, and Bellamy closed his eyes, trying to think about that.

“What if they’re trying to wrap this up as quickly as possible because Clarke alerted a lot of people about him kidnapping us all?” Echo said, and Bellamy’s eyes opened immediately, his stomach working itself into a knot at the thought. He knew what would happen to all of them once Cage got his answers. It’s not like he could have witnesses to his crimes.

“The people in my contacts are smart enough to not broadcast their search to the world. He probably doesn’t even know anyone is looking for him,” Roan muttered, walking back toward his bed.

Bellamy swallowed, tuning out whatever it was that Murphy and Echo immediately started bickering about. His brain couldn’t take any more of their pointless fighting.

Although, he was fairly certain that Echo couldn’t be right. If Cage knew someone was looking for him, he would immediately suspect Clarke, which would result in Clarke and probably Bellamy getting punished severely.

 

“Bellamy,” he heard Clarke murmur, and he groggily opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to look at her. But, she was fast asleep. He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out if he was just hearing things at this point.

“Come back,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy realized she was talking in her sleep. He had never noticed she did that before. He chuckled slightly, sliding a little bit closer to her.

Her hair was mostly in her face, but he could see her pink lips. It warmed his heart to see her asleep on her side, remembering how she had fallen asleep while talking to him only hours ago. Then, Bellamy heard something behind him.

He turned to see Cage, watching all of them with interest. He was standing by the exit, leaning against the door with a pensive look on his face.

Bellamy glanced back at the others, seeing them all tucked into bed. When he glanced back at Cage, his eyes met Bellamy’s.

Then, Cage let out a sigh, and gave him a nod, before turning around and leaving.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said as soon as the door shut behind him.

“Hmm?” Clarke mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Clarke, wake up,” he whispered, as she groggily rubbed her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and Bellamy wasn’t sure how to answer that question. But, something felt… wrong… off… like something horrible was about to happen.

“I don’t know. I just saw Cage, and he was staring at all of us,” Bellamy explained, but Clarke seemed confused by his freak out. But, Bellamy knew something was wrong.

Then, he heard the gas start. He jumped up, realizing it was in Echo’s cell. Cage rarely ever gassed them in the middle of the night.

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, pointing to Murphy’s cell, where the gas had begun as well. He swallowed, and then he heard the noise get louder.

His heart sunk when he realized that he was coming for Roan too. This didn’t make sense. Without Lorelei, he couldn’t deal with three of them at once.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, reminding himself that there could be a totally simple reason for this… that it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

But, those attempts at staying calm went out the window as soon as he heard the gas on Clarke’s cell.

“Clarke!” he yelled, pressing both his hands on the wall. She immediately squirmed closer to him, her hands meeting his on the glass, and she looked so scared.

“Bell,” she said back, her voice sounding slightly choked, and it was only then that he realized that the gas had started in his cell too.

“I love you!” he shouted as quickly as he could, pressing his forehead to the wall.

“Love you,” he could barely hear her murmur as her eyes fluttered shut.

“I love you,” he whispered, his tears pouring out as he felt the gas fill his lungs. And he kept saying it over and over, as he fell back onto his bed, giving in to the gas.

 

In his dreams, Bellamy was convinced he was dead. That Clarke was dead. That Murphy, Roan, and Echo died too. And, he felt relief… that it was finally over. That they were finally free of Cage.

He saw Octavia in his dream, saw the life that Clarke had described her having. He could see her graduating college, getting married, having kids of her own… having the life that Bellamy wanted for her.

He saw his mom again, and, in this dream, he broke down crying at her feet. He explained that he did what he thought was best. That he had a horrible feeling that Cage wasn’t a good guy, but that it wouldn’t matter, as long as Octavia was taken care of. And, she was… so it was worth it.

But, then he heard a loud screeching noise, and his eyes jerked open.

Bellamy wasn’t dead. None of them were.

The first thing he saw was Murphy, asleep on his side, his mouth covered and his hands and feet tied together. That’s when Bellamy realized that he was similarly restrained.

He blinked a few times, realizing that he wasn’t in his cell anymore. He was in a loud box. No, that didn’t make sense. He closed his eyes, listening to a sound that he hadn’t heard in years… he was in a moving vehicle.

His eyes flickered back open, seeing Roan unconscious and leaning on Bellamy’s shoulder. He turned his head to the side, seeing Echo and Clarke leaning on each other, both unconscious as well.

Bellamy tried to make sense of this, but his brain was too overloaded to think properly. Then, he heard a quiet shuffling, and glanced back over at Clarke, whose eyes were slowly starting to open.

He watched her closely, seeing her process their new surroundings. Then, her eyes found his, and Bellamy relaxed his shoulders slightly.

He tried to say something, but it came out muffled. He didn’t know how to calm her down, or even how to calm himself down. It had been years since he had been outside that building, since he heard any noise that wasn’t a medical tool or his cellmate’s voices. He was smelling things he hadn’t smelled in so long, and could feel Roan on his shoulder. There was too much going on.

But, he kept his eyes on Clarke. And a familiar look in her eyes showed up, and suddenly, Bellamy felt calm.

He kept watching her, seeing her glance around at the surroundings, and then down at her wrists. She had figured something out.

And, Bellamy didn’t believe in a lot of things. He was pretty sure he didn’t believe in God. He didn’t believe in miracles. He didn’t believe in luck.

But, he believed in Clarke Griffin.


	9. Exodus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I'm about to up the rating and throw in some new tags. I meant to do it a while ago, but I kept forgetting. Oops.

Clarke dreamt of her old home, of listening to Marcus and her mother argue about pointless scheduling conflicts. She remembered how easy it was to slowly get ready to run. How no one noticed that Clarke spent her evenings researching how to get away covertly, reading articles about all the possible ways it could go wrong.

She remembered how easy it was to go about her life, completely unnoticed. Overnight, she had become the homewrecker, which saved her the trouble of having to push away her own friends… they went away on their own.

Clarke knew that the signs of her plan were there, plain as day for anyone to see. But, people weren’t observant, and, in general, Clarke wasn’t the kind of person who drew attention. She was an average student who didn’t really engage in after school activities, who most people viewed as harmless.

And, people tend to underestimate people who come off as harmless.

Then, she remembered the night Cage found her, how he was the first person who noticed her in months… which she now knew was because he was specifically looking for her. But, he also saw her as harmless.

The only reason she knew that he saw her as weak was because he made the mistake of taking her out of the cells to lure Roan in. And, Roan also made the mistake of seeing her as harmless.

But, Clarke knew she wasn’t harmless or innocent. She was capable of luring a man to his death just to buy more time for another. She was capable of tricking Cage into thinking she followed his rules, even though she still found a way to get a message out.

Her mind drifted back to her cell, hearing Wells’ voice again. For a moment, Clarke relaxed, thinking she was finally dead.

_“Your fight isn’t over, Clarke.”_

Then, Clarke’s eyes began to flutter open. She wasn’t dead. Not yet.

The first thing she was aware of was feeling some kind of weight on her shoulder. She glanced to her left, seeing Echo leaning against her, unconscious. Clarke watched her for a moment, realizing that she was tied up with something covering her mouth.

Bellamy had to be here too, she thought frantically, as she looked around before locking eyes with him. He was similarly restrained, and Clarke tried to move her hand, before realizing that both her hands were locked together with a tight zip tie.

She looked around at her surroundings, trying to see any solution to the problem. Her mind was flooded with the articles she had read over the months before she ran from home. With her mom’s paranoid lessons about what to do if she got kidnapped. There were plenty of techniques for breaking out of them but she couldn’t remember the specifics. She clenched her eyes shut again, trying to remember just one specific detail.

Her eyes jerked open again, seeing what was near her to be used, but there wasn’t anything close enough for her to get to it. She let out a huff, letting her eyes fall to the ground.

That’s when it clicked. She reached down to her shoelaces, slowly pulling them untied. She fumbled with trying to get one of the laces through her wrists, pissed that it looked so fucking easy in the video her mom made her watch all those years ago, trying to teach her about what to do if she ever got stuck in a human trafficking situation. God, that talk gave Clarke nightmares for weeks, and she was pissed that the shows her mom watched made her this paranoid. But, she made a mental note to thank her if she ever got out of this.

Eventually, she got the bowline knots tied, and began moving her feet as much as she could within her restraints, watching the pressure of the lace slowly break down the zip tie.

When it finally snapped, Clarke pulled the cover off her mouth, and then glanced back up at Bellamy, who was copying her. She let out a relieved sigh, before she pulled her laces out of her shoes so she could replicate it on the tie that held her legs together.

It wasn’t as easy this time around, and her arms were a little bit shaky from being restrained for so long. She could faintly hear one of the others waking up.

“How did you know this would work?” Bellamy asked as soon as his mouth was uncovered.

“I didn’t,” Clarke replied quickly, as she broke the zip tie on her legs.

Then, she turned around to look at Echo, who was having a harder time waking up.

“Hey, wake up,” Clarke said, trying to keep her voice down. She knew she was in a truck, maybe one of those mover’s trucks that people could rent. But, she didn’t know if whoever was driving it could hear them. She took Echo’s face in between her hands, trying to get her to open her eyes. “Echo, please,” she pleaded, before uncovering Echo’s mouth.

“Fuck off, Clarke,” Echo murmured, before her eyes slowly opened. Clarke saw the panic take over her eyes, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand before she could scream.

“We’re in a truck. Cage could be driving it. You gotta stay quiet,” Clarke warned, and she could faintly hear Roan groan. She looked up, seeing Bellamy help Roan get out of his restraints. Murphy was copying the same technique, trying to break himself free. Clarke took a deep breath, as she helped Echo prop herself up, before getting to work getting her out of her restraints.

“So, what now?” she heard Roan ask, and she turned slightly to see that he was looking at her.

“Don’t know. Didn’t plan this far ahead,” Clarke whispered, before breaking Echo’s wrist zip tie.

“We wait until the truck stops moving and we break out,” Echo replied, and Clarke furrowed her brows.

“If we wait until the truck stops, whoever it is driving us could find us and kill us,” Bellamy argued, and Clarke let out a huff.

“Do you have experience with jumping out of moving vehicles?” Echo snapped, and Clarke shot her a warning look.

“Do you?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke’s eyes flickered up to Echo’s… realizing that she does.

“How would you break out of the truck?” Clarke asked her, trying to deflect from the argument between her and Bellamy. Then, she got the second zip tie off, and began lacing her shoes back up.

“Usually, the walls are made out of fiberglass. This one looks particularly cheap,” Echo mused, glancing around.

“Echo, have you broken out of a truck before?” Murphy growled, and Clarke gestured for him to keep his voice down.

“Only once,” she muttered, as she slowly stood up. “If we found something sharp enough, we could cut through it. It’s been years since I had to, but it should work.”

Clarke’s jaw dropped slightly, as her eyes flickered back to Bellamy, who looked just as shocked as Clarke did.

“What is the point of breaking free? They’re just gonna find us anyway and kill us,” Murphy mumbled.

“Because there is a small chance that we’ll succeed,” Bellamy snapped, before clenching his jaw.

“Murphy, Cage is moving us for a reason. And, I don’t want to find out why,” Clarke jumped in, and Murphy slammed his head back against the truck wall.

“Clarke, there’s no use. Murphy has already decided to give up,” Bellamy muttered, throwing his hands up in frustration. Clarke stumbled as she tried to stand up, uneasy to be moving while the truck sped down what sounded like a highway.

She made it over to Murphy, crouching down next to him. “Murphy, when I had Roan’s phone, I looked up Emori for you,” Clarke confessed, and his eyes flickered up to meet hers with a desperate look on her face. “I didn’t tell you about it because I knew it would only hurt you to know that she’s still looking for you.”

“What?” Murphy whispered, his voice catching slightly.

“She is still posting about you, looking for any information that could help her find you,” Clarke explained, and Murphy bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. “We could die today. We could fail at breaking out, and Cage could kill us all immediately. But, it could also work. And you might be able to see her again. Please, help,” Clarke begged, her hand shaking slightly as she patted his shoulder. He flinched at the contact for a moment, but melted into it.

Clarke had a similar reaction when Roan touched her, and she had only been trapped for a year. She couldn’t imagine how shocking it was for Murphy to be touched again after all this time.

He sat there for a moment, swallowing slightly. Then, he looked back up at Clarke. “Wait until the truck stops. We either wait for whoever is driving to open the back and we attack him, or we listen closely, and wait for him to walk away, then cut ourselves out.”

Clarke glanced back at Bellamy, who had a small smile on his face, nodding at her.

 

When the truck started slowing down, Bellamy and Roan quietly shifted toward the back, preparing to jump if the back door was opened. Meanwhile, Clarke, Echo, and Murphy had their ears to the walls, prepared to start breaking through the walls if the opportunity presented itself.

The engine was turned off, and Clarke sucked in a breath, feeling shaky all the sudden. She had been given too much time to think about what was happening. It was easier when she first woke up, when her brain was too overwhelmed with information to actually panic.

She wondered what would make Cage move them. He had been acting so weird in the past weeks, and Clarke vaguely recalls Bellamy freaking out about Cage acting shady the night before. Something had to unnerve him. Moving all five of them at once was a huge risk.

Then, Clarke jumped when she heard footsteps. But, they weren’t moving toward the back of the truck, they were moving in the opposite direction.

“He wouldn’t just open it up immediately. The drugs and gas only work for so long. He probably knows we’re awake and is getting reinforcements,” Echo mused, and Clarke nodded.

After a few minutes, Clarke heard Murphy slam something into the wall. Clarke jumped, turning back to look at him. Clarke held her breath, praying that Echo was right about how flimsy these walls actually were. And, after a few more hits, Murphy broke open a hole. He started to make it bigger, and it was almost big enough for Clarke to slide through.

“Echo, can you get through there?” Clarke asked, and Echo snorted in response, sliding through it.

“One day, we’re gonna have to have a talk with her about how she knew this would work,” Murphy said with a shrug, as Clarke heard Echo jog around the truck. A few moments later, she slid open the back door, and Clarke realized it was still dark outside. So, either they were unconscious for an entire day, or they didn’t travel as far as she had thought.

“Hurry,” Echo whispered frantically, as they all made their way to the back. Clarke felt a little wobbly when her feet hit the ground, and it was colder than inside the truck. She glanced around, seeing a strangely modern looking house, with an open garage.

“We need to get going before Cage or Emerson gets back,” Bellamy said, and Clarke’s stomach started to sink. They were in the middle of nowhere. Where were they supposed to go?

“We’re more likely to find help if we stay near the road,” Roan argued.

“We’re more likely to be found by Cage if we stay near the road,” Echo snapped.

“Echo’s right. We buy ourselves more time to come up with a better plan if we move away from the road,” Bellamy announced, gesturing across the street toward the woods. Clarke glanced at Murphy, who looked completely annoyed.

“Best shot, right?” he asked her, and Clarke nodded with a sigh. So, the five of them quickly sprinted across the street, running right into the trees. Echo led the charge, as they all ducked under a few broken branches. When Clarke finally glanced behind her, she couldn’t see the road anymore.

She wasn’t sure how long they had been barreling into the woods before Clarke started to feel shaky. It made sense. She was in the worst shape of all of them at the moment. She was still recovering from her mysterious head injury. And, she had the least active experience while in captivity. Roan would come in second, but he was still in far better shape than Clarke, probably because he hadn’t been trapped for very long.

Echo, Murphy, and Bellamy were in significantly better shape, especially since Cage had been giving them more physical exams, checking their endurance. Clarke and Roan had been too busy being drained of blood or lying unconscious in their cells to keep up.

“Let’s just stop for a second,” Roan huffed, and they all started gravitating toward a clump of trees that provided a pretty decent hiding spot.

“We can’t stay in one place for long,” Bellamy warned quietly, as Roan braced his hands on the trunk of the tree, catching his breath. Clarke was leaning against another one, closing her eyes slightly.

“I think it’d be smarter to rest for a moment so that we can all keep moving when it really counts,” Murphy suggested, eyeing Clarke carefully.

“Where the fuck even are we?” Echo murmured, and Roan let out another huff.

“Clarke,” she heard Bellamy whisper, and her eyes darted to his as he moved toward her with a concerned look in his eyes. “How is your head?”

“Fine,” Clarke shrugged, since they had much bigger problems than her dumb injury. But, her eyes fluttered shut without her consent, and she could feel herself sway slightly.

“Clarke,” he said more urgently, and she felt something grab her arm… maybe it was him. She tried to open her eyes again, but it was so hard. And, next thing she knew, she was falling.

 

When her eyes opened again, she immediately felt something cover her mouth. She flinched, tried pushing away, until another hand grabbed her face, almost gently. The hand tilted her head up slightly, and she immediately relaxed, seeing Bellamy give her a warning look. Then, his eyes quickly flickered to the left and then back at her, alerting her to the sound of loud footsteps.

Her eyes widened, and she felt her heart start to race. She glanced around, realizing that she and Bellamy were underneath something. But, she couldn’t see the others.

Bellamy seemed to notice her panic, and mouthed, “They’re okay.” She let out a quiet breath, and Bellamy closed his eyes and nodded.

Clarke started to wonder how she got here. Last thing she remembered was being by that clump of trees, catching her breath.

The steps got closer to them, and Clarke felt Bellamy tense up slightly. It was at this moment that Clarke realized his hand was still on her cheek, his thumb almost stroking her cheek lazily. She wasn’t even sure if he realized he was doing it. He seemed too preoccupied with the steps that were now moving away from them.

Clarke closed her eyes gently, focusing only on the feeling of his hand cupping her face… letting that be enough to calm her down. She had dreamt about what it would feel like to be touched by Bellamy Blake for too long, wondering if his touch would match the gentleness of his voice, of his eyes.

It did. And, Clarke found herself wondering how she survived this long without feeling this.

They laid there in silence for a few moments, hearing the crunch of twigs being stepped on get quieter and quieter.

“The others are up in a tree,” Bellamy finally whispered once they couldn’t hear the steps anymore. “But, I couldn’t get us both up there,” he explained, his eyes flickering back to Clarke’s. “You passed out.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered back, closing her eyes. Then, she felt Bellamy snake an arm around her, pulling her even closer, and she sucked in a breath. Her eyes fluttered open again, as she felt his hand leave her cheek, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Please don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered, leaning his head closer toward hers.

Bellamy had to know what a monumental moment this was… it had to be going on his head too. For at least a year, his voice had kept her sane, had lulled her to sleep, had given her hope. They had gotten as close as two people possibly could, learning everything about each other, whispering their secrets and fears. She had come to think of him as her home, and he clung to her like his life depended on it.

Yet, this was the first time they touched.

And, Clarke melted into him as if she had been in his arms before, as if she had always been here with him.

“Bellamy,” Clarke murmured, his eyes boring into hers with as much tenderness as they always did.

“Guys, you can come out now,” Echo announced, and Bellamy let out a huff, started to crawl toward the light. Clarke followed after him, realizing that he had hidden them underneath a fallen tree.

“You okay?” Murphy asked, giving Clarke a once over, and she nodded quietly.

“Alright, let’s keep going,” Echo muttered, taking off and Bellamy let out a light groan.

“Tell me the second you start to feel off,” Bellamy said sternly, and Clarke smirked back at him. Then, she noticed that Roan hadn’t started walking.

“Roan, we have to go,” Clarke snapped, and Roan tilted his head down slightly, narrowing his eyes at her. “Come on,” she groaned.

“What? Now all the sudden you care if I live or die?” he asked with a smirk, and Clarke clenched her fist in frustration. She was about to step forward, when Bellamy and Murphy stepped in front of her, standing in between her and Roan.

“Let’s get going,” Murphy snapped, but Roan was still smirking, glancing around.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Roan said smugly, and now Echo was storming back with a pissed off expression on her face.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, and Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a concerned look.

“I figured out where we are,” Roan smirked.


	10. Breaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever Clarke gets a little bit snarky, I always call her Clarke "But did you die?" Griffin... and that version of her def makes an appearance here lol.
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback so far guys! I always look forward to hearing from you all!

Bellamy’s heart was pounding, and he was terrified that whoever it was out there could hear it. He glanced back at Clarke, his stomach turning at the fact that she was still unconscious. He tried not to think about how light she was when he caught her… too light for a healthy person.

Not that Bellamy was under any delusions that she was healthy. It’s just that her mind was so sharp when they first woke up, immediately figuring out how to get out of their restraints. It was such a reassuring and familiar moment, seeing her thinking on her feet like that… that he forgot how bad things had gotten for her.

And, as he had been carrying Clarke on the last part of their hike, his mind went to some dark places. For a while now, Bellamy tried to ignore the needle marks on her arms, the horrifying fact that Cage was probably taking more from her than she could give. But, he couldn’t ignore than anymore. Especially not after he had to carry her unconscious body, before hiding underneath a fallen tree.

The worst realization he had was that out of all five of them, Clarke had the most medical knowledge. She would know how to take care of her right now. But, he couldn’t ask her when she was unconscious.

As the footsteps got closer to him, Bellamy fixed his eyes on Clarke, trying to calm himself down somehow.

This was when he realized that he was touching her… no, he had been touching her. He had literally held her in his arms. He blinked a few times, wondering how he missed that. Then, of course, his brain had bigger concerns at the time.

“They couldn’t have gotten far,” Emerson growled, and Bellamy felt shaky at the sound. He buried his face into Clarke’s shoulder without thinking about it, trying to steady himself.

“We need to go back toward the road. They’re smart. They’d know to get help that way,” Cage snapped, and Bellamy felt Clarke start to move. His head shot up, seeing her eyes slowly open.

He quickly put a hand over her mouth, making sure that she stayed quiet. Then, she started squirming, like she was fighting him, so Bellamy cupped her face, pulling it up so she would look at him.

She relaxed slightly, as Bellamy gestured to the sound of Cage and Emerson. She looked panicked, of course, but then he saw her glancing around… not observing her surroundings, but almost looking for something.

“They’re okay,” Bellamy mouthed as soon as he realized she was looking for the others. She relaxed again, and Bellamy ran his thumb on her cheek reassuringly. Her skin felt so soft, so warm, that Bellamy momentarily forgot where he was. Then, he heard a loud step, even closer to them than before.

His entire body tensed in panic, and his mind drifted to think about what would happen if they found them. They’d all go back to being locked up, he’d watch Clarke keep getting drugged over and over again until her body gave out, and Bellamy would lose the only thing he had left, his hope.

Over time, the steps moved farther away, and Bellamy pushed those horrible thoughts away.

“The others are up in a tree, but, I couldn’t get us both up there,” he whispered as soon as Cage and Emerson were far enough away. He glanced at Clarke, whose beautiful blue eyes were gazing into his. “You passed out.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes gently. Bellamy pulled his arm around her, trying to pull her as close to him as possible. He pushed a strand of hair out of her face, seeing her eyes flutter open again.

“Please don’t scare me like that again,” he pleaded, because he wasn’t sure he could survive any more moments like that.

All he wanted were more moments like this, where he had her safely in his arms, and they were both okay. He was getting his wish, being able to touch the girl he loved. But, it was so hard to enjoy it, knowing that it could be the last time, instead of just the first.

“Bellamy,” she murmured, as he got lost in those soft eyes of hers. He used to tell himself that getting this would be enough, that getting to hold her just once would be enough. But, now that she was here, so small and soft in his arms, he knew that once would never be enough. He needed more time.

“Guys, you can come out now,” he heard Echo say, and Bellamy started crawling out from under the tree. As he dusted himself off, Clarke followed suit, and she looked much better than she did before she passed out.

“You okay?” he heard Murphy whisper to Clarke, and Bellamy bit his lip, kind of amused that Murphy was worried about her. It was sweet.

“Alright, let’s keep going,” Echo announced, starting to move back in the direction they had been travelling before.

“Tell me the second you start to feel off,” Bellamy said to Clarke, and she smirked in response. He let out a huff, knowing that she was going to tease him later about being too protective, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Roan, we have to go,” he heard Clarke snap, and he turned around to see that Roan wasn’t walking. “Come on.”

“What? Now all the sudden you care if I live or die?” Roan smirked, and Bellamy immediately moved to get in between the two of them.

“Let’s get going,” Murphy snapped, and Bellamy realized that Murphy had the same idea as him.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Roan replied, and Bellamy heard Echo stomp back toward them.

“Excuse me?” Echo growled, as Bellamy glanced back at Clarke.

“I figured out where we are,” Roan smirked, and Bellamy whipped his head around in confusion.

“What?” Echo said, and Roan started moving past them all.

“Come on,” Roan teased, moving in a completely different direction than Echo.

“Roan, we all need to stick together,” Bellamy snapped.

“Nothing is stopping you all from following me,” he muttered, still walking. Bellamy blinked a few times, looking at Echo, who just looked pissed.

“Let’s go,” Clarke whispered, moving forward. Bellamy grabbed her hand, pulling her back slightly.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, furrowing his brows at her.

“Following Roan,” Clarke huffed. Bellamy let out a frustrated groan.

“We don’t know where he’s going,” Echo snapped.

“But, he looks like he does. And that’s better than what any of us have right now,” Clarke argued, and Bellamy could see Murphy nodding along in agreement.

“Fine,” Bellamy muttered, walking forward, still gripping onto Clarke’s hand. Echo let out a huff, before jogging up to catch up with Roan. “I don’t trust him,” Bellamy muttered to Clarke, who rolled her eyes in response.

“You don’t have to. Trust me,” Clarke said, raising her brows at him, before squeezing his hand.

 

They had been following Roan for at least an hour, before they took a break. He hadn’t spoken in all that time, which was pissing Bellamy off. Clearly, Roan knew something they didn’t, and was being stubborn about enlightening them for no reason at all.

“Roan, where are we?” Clarke asked, and Roan started smirking again. And, fuck, Bellamy wanted to slap that smug look right off his stupid face.

“In the middle of the woods, Clarke,” Roan teased, before Echo chucked a twig at his face. “Can I just enjoy our brief rest?” he muttered, sitting down and rubbing his cheek.

“Listen, the whole brooding, pissed off thing you’ve been doing since you got stuck with us needs to stop, like now,” Echo growled.

“We are all trying to get out of here. You could at least clue us in on what you’re up to,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke gripped onto his knee, shooting him a warning look.

“This is not a team effort. You would all turn on each other in a heartbeat if it meant you’d get to live longer. Let’s not pretend we’re all friends,” Roan growled, and Bellamy noticed Clarke cock her head to the side slightly, narrowing her eyes at Roan. Bellamy gripped her hand that was on his knee, almost instinctively.

“We could have left you tied up in the truck,” Murphy snorted, and Bellamy shot him a glare.

“It’s not them you don’t trust,” Clarke said so quietly that Bellamy almost missed it. He turned back, seeing Roan narrow his eyes right at Clarke. “It’s me you don’t trust, right?”

“Well, drugging me and luring me to my death doesn’t exactly breed a lot of trust, Clarke,” Roan growled, and Bellamy snaked his arm around Clarke’s waist protectively.

“I can’t help but notice you’re still alive,” Clarke retorted, and Echo snorted in response.

“Barely, no thanks to you,” Roan snapped.

“Actually, if I hadn’t figured out how to get out of the restraints, you would still be on that truck, waiting for your death,” Clarke said quickly, and Bellamy heard Murphy suck in a breath. Bellamy kept his eyes on Roan, seeing frustration take over his face. “And, if Murphy hadn’t broken the wall of the truck, you would still be on that truck, also waiting for your death. And then, Echo got us all out. Literally all of us have helped you stay alive.” Then, Roan’s eyes flickered to Bellamy, sizing him up.

“I got you out of your restraints, and I don’t even like you,” Bellamy spat, and Echo started chuckling slightly. Then, Roan’s eyes moved back to Clarke.

“Just fucking tell us where we’re going. Because we’re gonna all live or die together either way,” Clarke groaned, and Roan let out a huff.

“We’re in Azgeda right now,” Roan muttered, leaning back against a tree. “We’re moving toward a cabin.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be your cabin, would it?” Murphy asked.

“Not exactly,” Roan shrugged, as he moved to stand up. “Now, it takes a long ass time to get there, so let’s get moving.”

Bellamy glanced at Clarke, worried that she didn’t have enough time to rest. But, she waved him off as she shakily stood up.

Bellamy wrapped his arm around Clarke’s waist, as they started moving forward. She shot him a grateful look, and Bellamy feared that she was going to eventually collapse on him again.

 

“I used to hike around here a lot. That’s how I recognized where we were,” Roan explained to Echo, who still had a skeptical look on her face.

They had been hiking for most of the morning, and Bellamy could feel his own legs wanting to give up. But, if Clarke could keep going, so could he, so he kept his mouth shut.

“But, who owns the cabin we’re going to?” Echo asked, and Roan let out a slight chuckle.

“Someone that doesn’t like me much,” Roan joked.

“Well, that narrows down the list,” Murphy muttered, before Bellamy smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow. What the fuck?”

“Not the time for your snark,” Bellamy replied.

“I used to imagine what it would feel like to be touched by a person again. But, now I know. It feels like getting smacked by your best friend,” Murphy snapped, and Bellamy started chuckling in response.

“Her name is Ontari. We, uh, haven’t spoken in a while,” Roan explained with a shrug.

“So, I take it Clarke isn’t your first instance of bad luck with women,” Murphy teased, and Clarke started laughing, shaking her head. Roan let out an annoyed huff, and Bellamy couldn’t help but grin.

“Ontari slashed my tires,” Roan muttered.

“At least I didn’t do that,” Clarke shrugged, and Bellamy thought he was about to cry from laughing so hard. Roan let out a loud groan, shaking his head as he pushed through some bushes.

That’s when Bellamy saw the cabin. Roan was right. No one could find it if they hadn’t been there before.

“What are the odds your old lover is here?” Murphy asked.

“None. She’s studying abroad this semester, and doesn’t come here until summer,” Roan explained, as they marched up to the front of the house. “This was her dad’s old place, and I’m not sure she has been here in a while anyway.”

“So, we’re all cool with breaking and entering?” Bellamy asked, and Echo rolled her eyes.

“I am if it means I get a shower,” Echo muttered, as Roan started flipping over rocks until he found the one that had the spare key.

“You’re real familiar with this place,” Murphy teased, and Roan rolled his eyes, before unlocking the door.

The inside of the cabin was pretty cold, much like outside. There weren’t a lot of windows, so it was pretty dimly lit. But, Bellamy had spent three years in a dark cage. This was a vast improvement.

“Come on, Clarke. Let’s check out your head,” Echo said, tugging Clarke toward the hallway. Bellamy kept his eyes on her, noticing how shaky she looked as she walked. He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. He wasn’t sure how much longer Clarke would make it without medical attention.

“So, now what?” Murphy asked, as Roan moved toward the kitchen area.

“Now, we figure out who to call,” Roan said, gesturing to the landline on the wall. Bellamy let out a huge sigh of relief.

“We gotta be careful. Cage could be keeping close tabs on the people we know. It could alert him to where we are,” Bellamy warned, as Roan worried his bottom lip.

“Or put them in danger,” Murphy added in.

“How close are we to a police station?” Bellamy asked Roan, who looked like he genuinely did not know.

“Well, wait a second. The police may not be our best bet,” Murphy said, and Bellamy blinked a few times in confusion. “Cage would have chosen where he took us carefully. And, we seem pretty isolated out here. Odds are, he could get to us before the cops would, and is probably banking on us contacting them.”

“What?” Bellamy snapped.

“No, he’s right. He couldn’t find us in the woods, so now he’s gonna try to think like us to figure out where we are. The first thing anyone would logically do is contact the police. He could have friends there, or he could have tapped into their phones,” Roan mused, tilting his head slightly.

“And, if he gets to us first, he may not bother to take us back with him. He might just kill us to get rid of the witnesses,” Murphy said, and Bellamy’s stomach tightened at the thought.

“I think I know someone I can call, but it might mean we wait here a little bit longer,” Roan said, looking Bellamy right in the eye.

Bellamy hesitated, not sure if he could trust Roan, or if waiting here longer than they had to was a good idea. But, Roan had the same amount to lose as the rest of them did, so he wouldn’t suggest this if he didn’t think it would work.

“If you’re worried about Clarke, she will make it through the night. We’ll get food in her system and make sure she rests,” Murphy said, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered back to the hallway, where he could hear water start to run.

“If anything happens to her,” Bellamy growled, looking at Roan, who just nodded in response, before picking up the phone and dialing.

 

When it was Bellamy’s turn to shower, he made the mistake of looking in the mirror. He didn’t recognize himself. He was too skinny, his hair was too long. He didn’t look like the Bellamy he remembered from three years ago.

He could start to smell whatever it was that Murphy was cooking, and he wondered if he would even be able to eat real food again. He pushed that thought out of his head as he stepped into the shower, overwhelmed by the feeling of cold water crashing down on him.

Bellamy had been so convinced for too long that he would never step foot out of his cell. He should be happier about being free, about getting a real shower, and finding clean clothes from rummaging through a dresser. But, he found himself sobbing against the shower wall, terrified that this would only be a brief freedom. That he was about to eat his last meal. That Cage would drag all of them back to Hell, and Bellamy would have to watch Clarke die.

He wiped away his tears once he was out of the shower, quickly dressing as he got as much moisture out of his hair as he could.

The first person he found on his way back into the living room was Roan. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him.

“We just have to make it until tomorrow morning,” Roan muttered, brushing past Bellamy toward one of the bedrooms. Bellamy let out a sigh of relief, praying that Cage wouldn’t find them in that time.

“I made pasta, Bellamy!” he heard Murphy shout, and Bellamy started walking toward him, seeing the other three all gathered in the kitchen.

“It’s really good,” Clarke said with a full mouth, and Bellamy burst out laughing at the sight.

“I don’t really know how to make a lot of things, but, boiling water is easy, and the pasta noodles hadn’t expired,” Murphy shrugged.

“I guarantee it’ll be the best meal I’ve had in three years,” Bellamy shrugged, resting his hand on Clarke’s back.

“Who is taking first watch?” Roan asked, coming in with a rifle in his hands.

“Okay, this isn’t some survivor show where we need an armed man at the door,” Echo retorted, narrowing her eyes at the gun.

“I beg to differ,” Murphy snapped.

“I’ll take first watch,” Bellamy replied, and he could see that Roan trusted him about as much as Bellamy trusted Roan.

 

“Come on, you need some sleep,” he heard Murphy say, and Bellamy blinked his eyes open, not realizing that he had started to doze off.

“Sorry,” Bellamy muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“Clarke is all tucked in bed in the back room,” Murphy said, gesturing toward the hallway. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at Murphy, remembering that Murphy had carried Clarke to bed after she fell asleep at the kitchen table.

“Got a soft spot for our princess?” Bellamy teased, and Murphy let out a huff.

“I mean, she’s like a little sister. An annoying little sister that I never once asked for, but still,” Murphy muttered, grabbing the rifle from Bellamy’s hands. And, Bellamy chuckled the entire way down the hallway.

He quietly opened the door to the back room, seeing Clarke under the covers of a small bed. Bellamy let himself have a soft smile for a moment, as he kicked his shoes off.

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy cursed himself for waking her up.

“Go back to sleep,” Bellamy whispered as he crawled into the bed with her.

“I missed you,” she murmured, immediately sliding toward him. Bellamy snaked an arm around her, letting her rest her head on his chest. Almost instinctively, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

It wasn’t until her eyes flashed up to his again that he realized that he had never done that before. Or any of this, really.

“I missed you too,” Bellamy replied, his fingers brushing through her slightly damp hair. It was so strange, being able to touch her like this. He had spent so much time imagining it, dreaming of it… that it felt so normal. She was as soft as she looked, as warm as her beautiful laugh.

Bellamy adjusted them so he was on his side, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He bit his lip in hesitation, trying to remember the last time he was this close to another human being. Then, her hand cupped his face, almost tenderly, and he closed his eyes, savoring the contact. Her hand was so soft and warm against his cheek, and he felt like he could melt into it.

“I love you so much, Clarke,” Bellamy murmured, his eyes opening to gaze back at Clarke’s.

“And I love you too, Bell,” she replied with a sweet grin, and Bellamy pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, savoring the soft sigh that escaped her lips. He knew they had already confessed this in a million different ways, and he knew that he had confessed it when the gas came on in their cells. But, that was never how he wanted to tell her. This was. Just the two of them, holding each other close, feeling safe.

“Can I kiss you?” Bellamy whispered, his lips grazing her forehead as he spoke. He pulled away slightly, grinning as Clarke started nodding quickly. He brushed her hair behind her ear, before resting his hand on the side of her face. Then, he moved toward her, gently pressing his lips to hers.

Her lips were softer than he had imagined, and he melted into her without hesitation. He felt his eyes flutter shut, as Clarke’s hand found the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. When her lips parted, a quiet moan escaped Bellamy’s lips.

The first few kisses were slow, and gentle. Just the two of them trying to memorize the feeling of each other. But, each kiss became greedier… became hungrier. Because, they had been waiting too long for this. He didn’t know how long Clarke had wanted him, but he had wanted her for almost as long as he had known her. Had dreamt of the warm lips that had soothed him so many times over the past year. Had listened to the sound of her breathing, longing to know what her breaths would feel like against his skin.

He could feel the urgency of this moment by how much tighter Clarke was holding onto him now, by how Bellamy had pressed his chest against hers, by how their breathing was becoming shallower, by how Bellamy couldn’t tell if he was hearing his heart pounding or hers.

“We should slow down,” Bellamy finally whispered against her lips, his eyes opening to meet her dazed, blue ones. She nodded slowly, her breathing as shallow as his.

In his time with Clarke, she had told him everything, just like he told her everything. She could probably recite every detail of his childhood, and Bellamy could name every person in her high school that got on her nerves. He told her about every girlfriend, every bad date, every awkward morning after, and she told him that she had only been with one person… and she didn’t exactly enjoy it. So, he knew that he had to take his time with her, to make sure that if anything ever did happen between them, she would be able to enjoy it. That he could really show her how much he loved her when they were finally in a place where they felt safe.

So, he rolled onto his back, pulling Clarke onto his chest. One of his hands was on the back of her head, his fingers playing with her golden curls. His other hand rested on top of Clarke’s, which was relaxed on his chest.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Bellamy reassured, sleepily pressing a kiss to her forehead. Clarke nuzzled into his neck slightly, her hair tickling his skin.

“I know,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy smiled softly, closing his eyes.

“We’re not going back there. I’m gonna keep you safe, princess,” Bellamy promised, his lips now resting on her forehead, occasionally pressing kisses to her skin.

He felt Clarke hum into his neck, and he knew she was drifting off to sleep. He didn’t last much longer, since everything was too soft, too warm… holding her had lulled him to sleep.


	11. Thank You

Clarke’s head shot up when she heard a thump coming from the other room. She lifted her head up cautiously, before hearing Murphy let out a long slew of curses. She let out a sigh, relieved that he probably just stubbed his toe or something.

“He’s fine,” Bellamy groaned, not even opening his eyes, and Clarke tucked herself back into his neck, feeling his arm tug her a little closer. She smiled to herself, pressing a kiss to his neck as she got more comfortable.

Clarke felt infinitely better now that she had at least a few hours of non-drug-induced sleep. And, she had real food in her system. She knew she had scared Bellamy pretty badly after she collapsed, and he had hardly let her out of his sight since.

But, now, Clarke couldn’t fall back asleep. She was wide awake. She popped her head up again, seeing Bellamy fast asleep.

She had spent a long time just staring at Bellamy once the walls were clear. But, she had never been this close, or seen him so at peace… even when he had been sleeping. She found herself tracing his freckles with her thumb, without even thinking about it.

She could faintly hear Roan talking with Murphy in the other room, probably changing off watch duties. She sighed quietly, anxious about Roan. She knew she needed to talk to him, especially since she was the problem there. Clarke was the reason he had trust issues, the reason that he had kept his distance from all of them. And, she understood it. If Bellamy or Murphy had lured her into the cells, she wouldn’t have forgiven them either… well, maybe with time she would have, but Roan hadn’t had that much time in captivity.

She started mentally kicking herself for not working harder at apologizing to Roan. Her mind started drifting to those early days, trying to remember why she didn’t apologize more.

Then, she remembered her head injury. She let out a huff, burying her face into Bellamy’s chest. This stupid scrape on her forehead didn’t even explain the pain she felt in the back of her head. Hitting the front of her head like this wouldn’t do the damage that Clarke had been experiencing.

Clarke closed her eyes, trying to remember the day she got hurt. She vaguely remembers waking up… and someone was with her when she did. But, it wasn’t Cage or Lorelei, because she could hear them arguing in another room. It had to be Emerson, Clarke decided.

But, what were they arguing about? What would they even have to argue about? They were both trying to recreate Becca’s work, totally fine with capturing and torturing human beings for their experiments.

Clarke’s head popped up suddenly, remembering hearing someone scream like their life was on the line. She had heard that noise occasionally in her sleep, and now Clarke wondered if she remembered it from that day… if that scream belonged to Lorelei.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, tapping on his chest gently. His eyes snapped open, looking momentarily panicked.

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asked, cupping Clarke’s face with concern in his eyes.

“We think that Cage killed Lorelei, right?” she asked, and Bellamy nodded. “I think I heard her scream, like really scream. Could that have been when it happened?”

“Well, I saw her not long before Roan showed up, meaning she would have been there when you got back…” Bellamy said, running his fingers through his hair as he thought this over.

“I think I got hurt around that same time. That’s when it all goes fuzzy,” Clarke muttered, relaxing back down on his chest. Then, she felt his lips press against her forehead, and she immediately felt calmer. Throughout her sleep, she would occasionally wake up and feel him press lazy kisses to her forehead or cheek, and she kept thinking that she had to be dreaming, that she couldn’t be feeling this.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. One day, you’ll remember more. Don’t push yourself,” Bellamy whispered against her skin, and Clarke propped her head up again, seeing him gaze at her with those concerned eyes.

She leaned toward him, pressing her lips into his. It wasn’t like the hungry kisses they shared just hours ago. This one was quick and sweet, and Clarke loved it. She loved every kiss she had with him so far, as each one said something different, felt like a different confession.

 

Clarke sleepily walked into the living room, meaning to just grab some water. But, she forgot her purpose for being there when she saw Roan.

“How are you doing?” Clarke asked, and Roan let out a huff, giving her a once over.

“Don’t start,” Roan growled, and Clarke glanced down the hallway, reminding herself that she shut the door, so Bellamy wouldn’t wake up.

“Start what?” Clarke asked, sitting down in the chair across from him.

“Pretending like you give a shit about me. You and I both know it’s just the guilt talking,” he snapped, and Clarke bit her lip, nodding slightly.

“That’s part of it, yeah,” Clarke admitted, before propping her feet up on the coffee table. Roan narrowed his eyes at her, almost prompting her to keep going. “Um, before you took that cell, my friend Wells was in there.”

“What? Did you want me to be your new Wells?” Roan snapped, and Clarke’s eyes darted back up to meet his.

“No,” Clarke answered, fiddling her thumbs in her lap. “I want to make sure you don’t end up like Wells. I’ve only been around for one death, but I know there have been dozens before it. I know that a girl named Roma killed herself in the cell I was in, and that Murphy and Bellamy had to see it,” Clarke whispered, and she noticed that Roan wasn’t interrupting her anymore. “I don’t think I would be strong enough to lose another person.”

He sat there quietly, his eyes fixed on her… less angry than before, but still stoic.

“I know that I will never be able to make up for what I took from you. I stole your life. Even if we get out of here, you won’t go back to being whoever you were before. You’ll be different now, and that’s my fault,” Clarke confessed, looking down at her hands. “But, I didn’t lure you into this because I didn’t care if you died. I did it because I wanted them to live.”

“Especially Bellamy,” Roan interrupted, and Clarke met his eyes, seeing him look a bit more curious.

“Especially Bellamy,” Clarke finally conceded, before pushing her hair out of her eyes. “But, I care about all of them. They’ve become my family. And, I think about you that way too, even if you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Roan snapped, his body looking tenser than before. “You don’t get to talk about me like you know me.”

“Here’s what I know about you, Roan…” Clarke started, and she could see a brief glimmer of fear in Roan’s eyes as his lips parted slightly. “You didn’t call out for anyone in your first few nights in the cell. Bellamy told me that people usually cry for their parents or their significant others or friends. But, you didn’t. In fact, you haven’t told any of us about the people you care about, which says a lot.”

“That’s not that strange,” Roan argued.

“No, it’s not. I was the same way,” Clarke said, and Roan furrowed his brows at her. “I had no hope that my mom would find me, my dad was dead, and I had no one else to cry out for.”

“Clarke.”

“But, now I do. I’d call out for Bellamy, Murphy, and Echo. Because, I know they would take care of me.” Roan let out a sigh, glancing away awkwardly. “And, all of us care about you, even though you’re being an annoying ass.” His head snapped back in her direction, his brow slightly raised. “The only people who understand what you’re going through are in this cabin. And we all care about you. I care about you.”

“Clarke, stop, you don’t have to—”

“I hope that you get out of this unscathed. That this will one day just be a bad memory for you. That you’ll head back home and live whatever kind of life would make you happy. But, for you to get that, you need to let us in, to trust us. Because we’re all going to live or die together,” Clarke said, before standing up.

She strode toward the kitchen, remembering the water she came in for. When she walked back into the living room, Roan hadn’t moved an inch.

“I care about you guys too,” Roan whispered so quietly that Clarke barely heard him.

 

When it was Clarke’s turn to take watch, she had to fight Bellamy when he tried to take over for her. Then, when he finally conceded, she got a lecture on how to use a rifle. It wasn’t until Murphy shouted, “I thought her dad trained her on how to use those things back when he would take her hunting,” that Bellamy remembered, and Clarke started grinning smugly, before pointing to the hallway, telling him to go back to sleep.

Roan and Echo were both asleep, leaving Murphy in the kitchen, and Clarke monitoring the windows. She could faintly hear Murphy try to get something together, given what limited supply they had.

Clarke found a pencil and a notebook, and found herself doodling, as she kept the window in her peripheral vision. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there. Keeping track of time was something she’d probably never be good at again.

Then, she felt something smack the back of her head, and jerked forward, feeling a pain that felt all too familiar.

“I said head’s up, Clarke,” Murphy snapped, and Clarke blinked a few times, realizing something. “Clarke, are you okay?” Murphy asked, and Clarke glanced up, to see he had jogged over to her.

“I was hit in the back of the head,” Clarke said, her brows furrowing as she thought this through.

“Yeah, dude. I’m sorry,” Murphy replied with a huff.

“No, when I got hurt, it was the back of my head that got hit,” she said, and Murphy leaned down, examining her face closely.

“Pretty sure the nasty gash was on the front of your face, somewhere underneath that bandage,” Murphy smirked.

“Murphy,” Clarke groaned, and Murphy started to look at her more seriously. “I was hit in the back of my head first. I must have fell forward and that’s how this happened,” Clarke said, gesturing to her forehead.

“How would you have accidentally hit the back of your head?” Murphy muttered, shaking his head.

“I didn’t,” Clarke said, before pressing her lips together. Someone knocked her out on purpose. “It happened around the time Lorelei went missing. I remember hearing her scream. I think I was knocked out so I wouldn’t hear what happened to her.”

“They have gas for that,” Murphy argued.

“Cage does. Emerson doesn’t know how to use it,” Clarke said, and the realization swept across Murphy’s face.

“That son of a bitch,” Murphy growled as he straightened back up, holding his hands over his head to calm down.

Then, Clarke heard a loud clang from down the hallway.

“Go see what’s wrong,” Clarke ordered, before turning her eyes back to the window. Murphy let out a huff as he stormed toward the noise.

A few minutes passed, before she heard Murphy shout, “I could use some help, Clarke.” She let out a groan, carrying the rifle with her as she moved toward him.

She found Echo on the ground with a cut on her leg. “Go grab bandages,” Clarke ordered, and Roan made his way toward the kitchen. “How the fuck did this happen?” Clarke asked, and she heard Murphy and Bellamy talking behind her.

“I already had this wound. It reopened,” Echo muttered, and Clarke turned back, expecting to see Roan already back with stuff from the medicine cabinet.

“Roan?” Clarke shouted, and Bellamy and Murphy turned to go look for him. She turned back to Echo who had a concerned look on her face. Clarke glanced back at the doorway, alarmed by how she wasn’t hearing Murphy or Bellamy talking to Roan. She slowly picked up the rifle, and gestured for Echo to stay put on the ground.

She tiptoed down the hallway, seeing Bellamy and Murphy’s backs, not moving. Then, she saw Bellamy’s hand behind his back, gesturing for her to stay put.

“He is coming with me. And, if any of you try to stop me, I will kill you,” she heard an all too familiar voice growl. She closed her eyes, remembering how Emerson almost always had at least one gun on him. Chills went through her body as she realized that he could be holding a gun to Roan’s head right now. Clarke swallowed, tiptoeing back into the room she left Echo in.

“Please,” she faintly heard Murphy plead. Clarke gestured for Echo to keep her mouth shut when she walked back in. Echo’s eyes were wide with fear as Clarke quietly stepped toward the window. She set the rifle down on the bed, before moving to open the window.

“Believe me, if Cage were with me, I’d be bringing you all in,” she could hear Emerson growl, followed by the sound of the door opening. Echo stood up quietly, limping over to Clarke. Clarke quietly crawled through the small window, her feet landing a little too loudly on the cold ground, then, Echo handed her the rifle.

Clarke turned her head around, seeing Emerson shove Roan out the door, before stepping out himself. Clarke forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to remember to stay calm. She had made harder shots in her life, with far older guns. Her hands were slightly shaky as she took her aim. All she needed was for Roan to step far enough away from him to give her a clean shot.

And, when he did, it was like Clarke’s mind turned off for a moment. And, all the sudden, Emerson was crashing to the ground, and Roan rushed over to him, kicking the handgun out of his hand.

She lowered her aim, as Murphy and Bellamy came running out the door. Murphy moved toward Roan, making sure he was okay. And, Bellamy’s eyes frantically found Clarke’s, his mouth agape.

Clarke leaned against the wall, letting out a breath she had been holding for too long. And, next thing she knew, Bellamy’s arms were wrapped tightly around her. Her face was buried in his chest, and she broke into a sob. Then, she felt something behind her. Clarke glanced up, seeing Roan joining in the hug, sandwiching Clarke between them.

“Thank you,” she heard Roan murmur into her shirt, and Clarke nodded, still sobbing into Bellamy’s chest.

 

“It had to be done,” Bellamy said for the thousandth time, and Clarke nodded. She knew that. If it didn’t have to be done, she would’ve hesitated more. It was completely necessary.

“I used to cry after I got home front hunting with my dad. I felt guilty,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy nodded. This was something she had already told him. Talking about her time with her dad was one of the few positive things she had to share with Bellamy that wasn’t about art.

“Murphy told me that you think Emerson is the one who injured your head. He helped Cage and Lorelei kill so many people like us. He was there to make sure that you lured Roan in to be killed, too. He was a monster,” Bellamy whispered, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“I know,” Clarke nodded, turning toward him slightly. Bellamy was looking at her with such concern in his eyes. “And, as soon as he had Roan unconscious, he would have come back to kill all of us or brought us back to the lab with him. And, I don’t know which is worse,” Clarke confessed, resting her head on Bellamy’s shoulder. “Bell, is it even safe for us to hide here anymore?”

“Probably not. But, Cage is on his own now, unless somehow Lorelei is still alive,” Bellamy muttered.

“She’s not,” Clarke corrected, and she felt him nod before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“My point is, he can’t bring us all in himself. And, he can’t come here and kill all of us. He’s outnumbered, and we now have three guns, thanks to Emerson,” Bellamy reassured.

“You guys did make sure his phone was off, right? We don’t need Cage tracking us,” Clarke replied, and Bellamy let out an annoyed huff. She knew she had already asked this.

“Yeah, princess. But, Cage will know the general area Emerson was in before he went ‘missing,’” Bellamy replied. “Hey, let’s get some sleep, okay?” Bellamy added in, slowly pushing Clarke to lie down. She let out a sigh, pushing herself up on the bed, so she could get under the covers.

“You’re sleeping too, got it?” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy let out a sweet chuckle.

“How can I argue with that?” he teased, as he tugged his shoes off. Then, he climbed in after her, his big arms wrapping her up immediately. She giggled into his chest, as he peppered her forehead with sweet, little kisses. “It is a relief to know that all you need is a rifle to keep yourself safe,” he whispered, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“All I needed was for you to mansplain how to use it,” she teased, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“You could have just interrupted me and said that you knew what you were doing,” Bellamy replied, and Clarke snorted.

“But, you’re so cute when you’re trying to teach me something,” Clarke joked, before he crashed his lips into hers.

“Did you just admit that you think I’m cute?” Bellamy whispered against her lips, his own lips turning up in a devious smile.

“I mean,” Clarke teased, leaning back to pretend she was thinking about it. “You’re alright.”

“Just alright?” he replied, his voice a bit lower, huskier. Then, he started kissing down her neck, while his other hand gently ran down the other side of her neck. Clarke sucked in a breath, feeling the heat travel to her face.

“Okay, you’re more than alright,” Clarke murmured, closing her eyes to focus on the feeling of Bellamy’s lips travelling back up her neck.

“Well, I think you’re beautiful,” Bellamy whispered right into her ear, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered open. She turned her head to look at him, and he wasn’t even smirking anymore. His smile was genuine as he gazed back at her.

“I love you so much,” Clarke said before closing the distance between them, crashing her lips into his. He whimpered into her mouth, as his arms pulled her even closer into his chest. One of his hands was cradling the back of her neck, keeping her lips locked with his, while his other hand rubbed circles into her lower back.

“I love you too, Clarke. So fucking much,” he replied, keeping her close to him as he spoke.

 

When it was Bellamy’s turn to take watch, Clarke crept down the hallway before climbing in bed with Echo, who had been up crying for a while.

“It’s okay,” Clarke whispered. Echo turned around, glancing at Clarke with tearstained eyes.

“We had to break out of a truck, had to run for our lives. You had to kill someone today. Nothing is okay,” Echo said, breaking down on Clarke’s shoulder.

“All of us are still alive. And help is coming in the morning. That’s two things that are okay,” Clarke offered, and Echo nodded into her shirt. Clarke knew very little about Echo. And, from what she could tell, Bellamy and Murphy barely knew more than her. She knew that Echo was an orphan and that she had to have had some kind of rough childhood because of it. But, Echo never let anything else slip. “Echo, how did you know how to get out of that truck?” Clarke had to ask.

“How did you know how to get out of the zip ties?” Echo retorted, lifting her head up slightly.

“My mom made me watch a video on it. She was always worried that I’d end up getting kidnapped or something. I always thought it was because she was paranoid, but I’m now wondering if there was something she wasn’t telling me,” Clarke mused, before pressing her lips together.

“What? You think that she was worried that someone would come after your nightblood?” Echo asked with a small smirk.

“No, I don’t think so. I think she would have told me about it then. Maybe it has something to do with my dad. A lot of people wanted revenge for what he ended up in prison for,” Clarke muttered, shaking her head slightly.

“When I was sixteen, I was living on the street,” Echo finally said, and Clarke’s head popped up. “This guy offered me food and I was starving, so I took it. I knew there was a chance it was drugged, but I ate it anyway. Then, I woke up inside a truck like that one with ten or so other girls like me. And, one of them knew how to get out. That’s how I knew,” Echo confessed, before glancing down.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke whispered, and Echo just shook her head. They sat there in silence for a few moments, the only sound being Murphy’s snoring from the living room.

“Do you really think the person Roan called is going to help us?” Echo whispered, and Clarke nodded.

“I trust Roan, and he trusts this friend. We’re gonna be okay,” Clarke decided, and Echo slid closer to Clarke, letting out a sigh.

 

“Guys!” she heard Roan yell, and Clarke jerked up, hearing the sound of several strangers in the living room. Clarke jumped out of bed, tugged her shoes on, and started running toward the living room. The first thing she noticed was Roan talking to some man with a large navy jacket. The second thing she noticed was that it said FBI on the jacket.

The third thing she noticed was the frantic, “Clarke!” screamed by someone that was not one of her cellmates. Clarke’s eyes scanned the room, trying to locate the voice. But, it found her, and the man grabbed her in a tight hug.

As this man held Clarke in an embrace, Clarke locked eyes with Bellamy, who looked incredibly confused by the sight.

“I thought you were dead,” the man said as he pulled away, and Clarke thought her legs were going to give out at the sight of Marcus Kane… right in front of her.

She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of this. But, she wasn’t dreaming. She could feel him grab onto her arms, could hear the tears in his voice as he spoke quickly to her.


	12. Elpis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me pretty much all day. Low key might have forgotten how to write smut for a bit there. Oops.
> 
> Oh yeah, smut warning, you guys.

For a moment, Bellamy was panicked. He had no idea why he was in a hospital room or where everyone was. Her jerked up, glancing around.

Then, he forced himself to take a deep breath.

Right, he wasn’t actually in a hospital. He was in a hidden facility, getting checked out. The others were in their own rooms, getting similar tests. He could only imagine how much work the doctors here had, especially since they were all malnourished, probably all had vitamin-D deficiencies, and then there’s the whole nightblood situation.

Yesterday was such a blur to Bellamy. One second, they were all in the quiet cabin, wondering if Cage was going to find them, and the next thing they knew, dozens of FBI agents were at the door… among them: Clarke’s step-dad. She looked just as confused as Bellamy did when he ran up to her.

Clarke didn’t talk about Marcus Kane much over the past year… probably because she liked to avoid the topic of her mother. But, she had never let it slip that he had a connection to the FBI… that, Bellamy was sure of. Then again, she looked so shocked to see him that maybe she didn’t even know about it.

Then, as if on cue, he heard a knocking on the door. Bellamy’s eyes flickered up, seeing Marcus Kane slowly walk in before closing the door behind him.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Blake?” Marcus asked, and Bellamy noticed he was wearing a nice suit, carrying a notepad and pen.

“Like I spent three years in captivity,” Bellamy retorted, and Marcus’ smile faded slightly, as he pulled a chair up by Bellamy’s bed.

“Are you feeling well enough to answer some questions?” he asked, very professionally. Bellamy nodded, adjusting himself so he could sit up all the way. “So, my records show that you went missing back in 2014. Your sister, Octavia Blake, was under the impression that you died overseas,” Marcus said, before glancing back up at Bellamy.

“Well, my mother had died the year before, making me solely responsible for Octavia. But, I couldn’t afford to take care of her. So, when Cage Wallace reached out to me, saying that he would pay a good amount of money for me to participate in a study, I agreed. A family friend took Octavia in for me, and I told her that I was joining the military,” Bellamy explained, and Marcus nodded along, jotting some things down on the paper. “All things considered, not my brightest decision,” Bellamy added in with a small chuckle.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that the Millers are still taking care of Octavia,” Marcus said with a smile.

“Clarke never mentioned you worked with the FBI,” Bellamy said, narrowing his eyes at Marcus.

“That’s because she didn’t know. I stepped away a while back for personal reasons. I only came back after Clarke went missing,” Marcus explained, relaxing into his chair a bit. “This way I could actually do something to find her. Should’ve known she’d be smart enough to help me.”

“Are you talking about the text?” Bellamy asked, and Marcus smiled and nodded.

“The facility you were originally in… we found it the day after you all left. We think that somehow Wallace knew that we were about to find him,” Marcus replied.

“Did you find him? Cage, I mean,” Bellamy asked, trying not to get his hopes up. And, by the way that Marcus nervously pressed his lips together, he knew that Cage was still out there. That thought made Bellamy feel like he was going to throw up.

“No,” Marcus finally admitted with a sigh. “But, Lorelei Tsing is dead. Do you know anything about how that happened?”

“Uh, Clarke might. She thinks she overheard it happen, but it was around the time that she hit her head, so she isn’t sure,” Bellamy explained, racking his brain for any other information about Lorelei Tsing.

“Yeah, that’s all Clarke said,” Marcus recalled, tapping his pen on the notepad nervously. “But, we found her body buried outside the facility… alongside dozens of others.” Bellamy’s stomach dropped. His mind was drifting to all the voices he heard over the years, the faces he got to see before Cage darkened the walls. He always knew they were dead. It wasn’t like Cage could just let them go free. But, the lack of confirmation made it seem less final, less real. “You were held in there longer than the others, so I can guess that you knew a lot of the people whose bodies we found.”

Bellamy nodded, his fingers pushing away his tears as quickly as he could.

“When all of this is over, an agent will probably want to talk to you about what you know about all of them,” Marcus said grimly, and all Bellamy could do was nod in response.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Bellamy tried to get himself back together. Then, he asked, “What happens to us now?” And, he could feel his own heart break slightly at the sad look on Marcus’ face.

“Well, Cage Wallace is still at large. We can’t just let you all go back to your families, since that would be putting you all and your loved ones in danger,” Marcus explained, and Bellamy nodded. “For the time being, we are going to put all five of you in a safe house. We’re hoping that we can bring in Cage Wallace quickly, and then, we can ideally get you all back home.”

“Ideally?”

“Well, there are other things to consider. We need to make sure there isn’t anyone else like Cage Wallace looking for Becca’s old patients. Her research was kind of legendary, and there could be others who want to continue it to make a name for themselves.”

“Is that what Cage was trying to do?” Bellamy asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I can’t speak for what goes on in that man’s head,” Marcus huffed. “But, that’s probably partially it. His father, Dante Wallace, runs a huge pharmaceutical corporation. This could have been huge for them.”

Bellamy bit his lip, looking down at his hands. “So, are we just going to live in a safe house for the rest of our lives?”

“No. If there appears to be an ongoing threat against all of you, that’s when we would visit another option, similar to what they do in Witness Protection.”

“Do I get to talk to my sister?” Bellamy asked, and he hated the way Marcus’ lips twitched at those words. Then, Marcus’ eyes fluttered shut, shaking his head slightly.

“Officially, you are all still missing,” he explained, and Bellamy’s chest was aching so badly, he thought he could scream. “We can’t allow for any traceable contact. It’s for your safety and for hers. But, each of you can write a letter, and we will have an agent read it to your sister and the Millers if you want, before destroying the letter.”

Then, he heard Marcus start to stand up. Bellamy’s eyes flickered up to his, trying to make sense of the strange expression on his face.

“Before I take off, I just wanted to say thank you,” Marcus said, and Bellamy cocked his head in confusion. It was Bellamy that needed to thank him. He found them, after all. Bellamy opened his mouth to ask him what he meant, but shut it immediately as Marcus’ eyes flickered to the ground. “Thank you for taking care of Clarke when I couldn’t.”

 

Bellamy’s hand was still a little sore from writing the letter to Octavia. But, to be fair, Marcus said he could write a letter… and never once specified how short it had to be. So, Bellamy wrote her a damn novel, explaining why he lied to her, where he had been, that he was okay now, and that he wasn’t alone. He wrote down all his wishes and hopes for her, about his excitement about her going to college, about how sorry he was for leaving her.

“I just feel bad for the guy who has to read my letter to Emori,” Murphy said with a smug grin, and Echo let out an annoyed groan, before resting her head on the van window. “Just one long ass, awkward love letter with occasional flashes of actual information.”

“Sounds about right,” Clarke teased, before leaning forward and poking the back of Murphy’s head. When Murphy whipped his head around, Clarke pointed at Bellamy, which earned him an annoyed glare from Murphy.

“You’re the worst,” Bellamy whispered right into Clarke’s ear, and she shot him an adorable pout.

“Wait, did Clarke actually write her mom a letter?” Echo asked with an awkward smile.

“Yeah, it was short, though. I mean, Marcus will probably let a good amount of information slip anyways,” Clarke shrugged.

“Aww, you didn’t write your old boyfriend Finn a letter?” Bellamy teased, and Clarke snorted.

“I’m not gonna send an FBI agent all the way to Alpha Station just to read him a letter that only says, ‘Suck it. Love, Clarke,’” she replied with a smug grin, and Bellamy buried his face into her shoulder as he laughed.

“Not the best use of resources,” Roan snickered, and Murphy started cackling.

“But, fuck, that’d be funny,” Echo replied, chuckling to herself.

 

Bellamy had been assured in a million different ways that the safe house would be… safe. But, Bellamy couldn’t let himself feel safe, for some reason.

He wondered if that was because he still felt like he was trapped. They couldn’t leave the house, and they were guarded. Sure, they all had real beds to sleep in and actual food and could actually shower… but, they were still trapped there.

On the first day, Bellamy tried to distract himself. He read an entire book in one sitting downstairs, drowning out the sound of Murphy and Echo arguing about something stupid. Occasionally, Clarke would interrupt him, would press a kiss to his cheek, would ask him about the book.

On the second day, Bellamy felt sick all day. Transitioning to eating real food again wasn’t going too well for him. He felt nauseous every time he tried to take a bite of something.

On the third day, Bellamy broke down crying in the shower. He sat down in the tub, letting the warm water crash onto him. He wondered if his sister had gotten the letter yet. He wondered what the FBI would tell Roma’s family. He wondered what the FBI did with Sterling’s body. He wondered why he managed to stay alive for three years in that cage, when so many didn’t even make it a few months.

“Bell,” he heard Clarke say through the bathroom door. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to get himself together before Clarke inevitably barged in because she was worried about him.

“I’m fine,” he lied, and immediately heard the bathroom door open and then close.

“Talk to me,” she said from the other side of the shower curtain. He let out a huff, resting his head against the shower wall. “If you don’t talk to me, I’m stepping in there with you and making you talk to me,” Clarke threatened playfully, and Bellamy snorted.

“No, you’re not,” he called her bluff, chuckling at the mental image of a fully dressed Clarke barging into the shower.

“Bell, I stealthily climbed out of a window and shot a man. You really think I’m bluffing?” she teased.

“Yes,” he said with a chuckle, before Clarke pulled open the shower curtain and climbed in, sitting down right next to Bellamy in the tub. It was a tight squeeze, but Bellamy was laughing too hard to really be that uncomfortable.

“I hope you’re happy,” Clarke said, as she scrunched her nose. And, Bellamy buried his face into her neck, nodding slightly. He felt Clarke’s arms wrap around his back, pulling him toward her.

“I am happy,” he promised, even though he was breaking into a sob again.

“But, you’re sad too. I know,” Clarke whispered, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. And, she held him just like that until the tears stopped.

 

On the fourth day, Bellamy found Murphy sobbing in the kitchen. He imagined that Murphy was struggling with the same things that Bellamy had been. After all, Murphy had been in there almost as long as Bellamy had. But, Murphy’s tears weren’t over what they had been through. They were over Emori.

So, Bellamy listened to him talk about Emori in a way that he never dared to inside the cells. Before, it was all nostalgia, sweet memories that helped Murphy sleep through the night. But, now, there was a longing that wasn’t there before. Murphy had so much hope, something that Bellamy had never seen in him. And, it was breaking Murphy’s heart having to be away from her.

Bellamy finally confessed how he was feeling about Octavia, how guilty he feels that he is alive and well but not with her… not taking care of her. And, he broke down like he did in the shower the day before.

On the fifth day, the nightmares started. He would have horrible flashes to his years in the cells. To his first night, to his last night, to the night that he watched Roma die, and to the night that Bellamy almost died.

On the sixth day, Bellamy woke up from a nightmare where Cage killed Clarke. He gripped onto Clarke a little too tightly as soon as his eyes opened, pulling her closer into his chest. She was fast asleep, of course. Her beautiful face looked so peaceful like this. He relaxed slightly, watching her sleep. He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn’t there anymore. That Clarke wasn’t either. And, that he could actually keep her safe from Cage now.

After a week of being in the safe house, Bellamy jerked awake again. This time, though, not from a nightmare. It was from a noise coming from the room next to theirs… Roan’s. Clarke let out a sweet sigh, before rolling over onto her side, apparently not as startled as Bellamy was. Bellamy laid back down, pressing his chest to Clarke’s back. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and tried to relax.

Then, he heard the noise again… realizing that it wasn’t Roan making that noise.

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered.

“Go back to sleep,” Clarke grumbled, swatting his hand away sleepily.

“I think Roan and Echo are having sex,” Bellamy said.

“Yeah, they’ve been fucking for like three days now,” Clarke muttered, turning onto her back to look at Bellamy. “Did you not know that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bellamy groaned as quietly as he could.

“Thought you knew. They haven’t exactly been subtle. Echo has a massive hickey on her neck. How did you miss that?” she whispered. Bellamy rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had even been awake for the past few days. He should have noticed that.

“Wait, why are they sleeping together? Echo doesn’t even like him,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke groaned, before resting her head sleepily on his chest. “Clarke.”

“Well, she doesn’t exactly have a lot of options for sexual partners in this house,” Clarke mused, and Bellamy let out a groan. “Plus, she hasn’t gotten laid in almost two years.”

“Okay, but I was in there longer, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve had sex in four years. You don’t see me jumping into bed with Roan,” Bellamy muttered, shaking his head slightly. Then, Clarke’s head popped up and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Would Roan be the first person you’d consider for a sexual partner in this house?” Clarke asked with a small smirk, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“Not my point,” he snapped.

“I’m sure he’d be willing to spread the love, since there’s no one else in this house you’d consider sleeping with,” Clarke shrugged, before sliding off him and rolling onto her side.

“Get back here,” Bellamy groaned, pulling Clarke toward him. He rolled her over, pulling her into his chest. He started peppering kisses all over her face, listening to her sweet giggle.

 

“So, Roan, huh?” Bellamy finally said the next day, and Echo immediately snorted.

“Okay, Dad, what is it?” she asked with a huge smirk. Bellamy’s mouth opened slightly, since he wanted to respond defensively to her tone. But, then he shut his mouth, reminding himself that this was none of his business. “Come on, I know you have something to say.”

“He’s just kind of a dick,” Bellamy finally blurted out and Echo burst out laughing, leaning on the counter.

“Dude, I know,” Echo replied with a devious grin, and Bellamy let out a groan. “Okay, Bellamy. I know there’s this weird part of you that wants to be super protective of us, but you need to chill. I’m a grown adult who went two years without being touched. And, as a grown adult, I’ve decided to fuck the rich douchebag, repeatedly.”

Bellamy started choking on the water he was drinking, which only made Echo’s laughter even louder.

“What did you do to Bellamy?” Murphy asked as he strolled into the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets.

“Nothing. He’s just freaking out that I’m screwing Roan,” Echo replied, and Murphy just shrugged. Was Bellamy the last person to figure out they were sleeping together?

“Eh, he’ll chill out as soon as he bangs it out with Clarke,” Murphy muttered.

“What?” Bellamy snapped, and Echo started cackling, leaning back against one of the cabinets to keep her balance.

“God, no wonder he’s been so fucking tense,” Echo said.

“Murphy,” Bellamy growled, but Murphy just smiled smugly at him.

“What? I noticed you were acting a little tenser than the rest of us. So, this morning, I walked up to Clarke and was all have you two had sex yet and she was like nah and then she went back to her little sketch,” Murphy said with a huge smirk.

“You’ve discussed my sex life with Clarke,” Bellamy clarified, raising an eyebrow.

“It was just a check-in. You know I worry about you,” Murphy teased, and Bellamy let out a groan, jumping out of his seat.

“Aw, he’s all flustered now,” Echo jumped in, before Bellamy got out of the kitchen. He marched toward the stairs, noticing Roan passed out on the couch of the living room.

When he finally found Clarke, he completely forgot what he wanted to talk to her about. She was sitting in their room, leaning against the window. Her sketch pad was in her lap, and she was looking through the window, glancing upwards. He leaned against the doorframe, remembering that she said this was her favorite thing to paint, to draw… the sky.

He watched her for a few minutes, remembering that conversation he listened in on more than a year ago. How she described the sky with so much love and warmth in her voice to Wells. _You never see the same sky twice,_ he remembered hearing her say before the gas took him over.

He could see that love and warmth right now, as she was too enveloped in what she was doing to even notice that Bellamy was watching her. He always tried to imagine what Clarke would look like while sketching, but he could have never predicted the way her eyes would get a bit excited as her hand moved across the page quickly, almost like she couldn’t get the pencil strokes out fast enough. It was so beautiful to watch.

After a few more minutes, Clarke noticed him and immediately blushed. Bellamy let out a sigh, before closing the door behind him. “How long have you been creeping on me?” she teased, as Bellamy strode over towards her.

“Not too long,” he replied, before kissing her forehead.

 

He had another nightmare that night, and it was about Clarke. He jerked up, his breathing labored as he made sense of his surroundings.

“You’re okay,” he heard Clarke whisper, and he turned his head to see Clarke sitting herself up, rubbing her eyes. “What was it about?” she asked, her hand now rubbing his back.

He blinked a few times, not sure he could even say it out loud… not to her.

“Just hold me,” he pleaded, as he buried his face into her chest. He could feel Clarke’s fingers combing through his hair, while her other hand rubbed his back tenderly.

“Everything is okay,” Clarke whispered, before kissing the top of his head. He heaved into her shirt, his hand resting on her waist. “You’re safe. I’m safe. It was just a bad dream,” she whispered, and he shook his head against her chest. It wasn’t just a bad dream… it was a very real possibility, and it scared the hell out of him.

She held him like this for a long time, whispering little encouragements into his ear, as he fell apart on her.

“I have dreams like that too,” Clarke finally confessed, and Bellamy tilted his head up to look at her. She was crying too. “In my dreams, I’ve lost you in a million different, painful ways.”

“Clarke,” he whispered, pushing himself up so he could get closer to her. He cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to push away her tears.

“And then, I’d wake up. It used to be that I would hear you breathing in your cell, and I’d let that soothe me back to sleep. Then, I actually got to see you fast asleep next to me, and I watched you as long as it took for me to feel better. And now, I get to hold onto you,” she whispered, and Bellamy pressed a slow kiss to her lips. Her hands found the back of his neck, pulling him toward her. His body shuddered as she parted her lips, letting him in.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke finally whispered against his lips, her eyes still shut. Then, they fluttered open, gazing back at Bellamy with so much love that he thought he was going to melt into her. “If something bad happens, we will both find a way to be okay. You survived three years of hell, and you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.” Bellamy opened his mouth to argue, but her eyes were practically daring him to defy those words. “And, I’ve outsmarted Cage twice now. I’m a hell of a shot and smarter than people give me credit for. We will be fine.”

“I’m still going to worry,” he replied, his thumb absently stroking her cheek.

“I know. But, we protect each other. And, we have our weird little prison family to help us stay safe,” she joked, as Bellamy pressed his forehead against hers, chuckling slightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, already feeling himself start to calm down. She smirked at him, before pressing a peck to his lips. But, before she could pull away, Bellamy crashed his lips into hers. She smiled against his lips, making this one of their messier kisses… but, Bellamy didn’t care. His princess was happy, and that was all that mattered to him in this moment.

His hand started combing through her hair, before resting gently on the back of her head. He felt her hand on his neck, her thumb tracing the lower side of his jaw… and all Bellamy could think about was how much he _wants_ her.

He tried to slow down, but Clarke clung harder to him, her kisses becoming more hungry and desperate. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him as his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She moaned into his mouth, as her fingers brushed through his curls. He whimpered slightly at the sensation, and Clarke started kissing across his jawline.

“Clarke,” he whispered, as she started sucking just below his jaw. “Fuck,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. “We should—”

Then, Clarke’s head popped up, eyebrow raised at him. He tried to stutter out the rest of his sentence, to remind her that they should probably slow things down.

“Bell, do you not want me?” she asked, her voice pleading with him as his chest started to ache.

“Fuck, no. God, I want you so much,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “So, so much.”

“Then, what is it?” she whispered, her eyes wide with confusion. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, pushing it behind her ear.

“I’m scared,” he confessed, before swallowing. “I’ve never been with someone I loved before. And, I just want this to be perfect for you.”

“Bell,” Clarke whispered with a soft smile, her thumb grazing his cheek. She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes for a moment. “Every moment you’ve given me has been perfect. This wouldn’t be any different.”

“You mean that?” he asked, his own voice sounding small.

“Of course,” Clarke whispered, her eyes opening to meet his. “You’re my home. You make me feel safe and loved. All I want in the world is right here.”

He captured her lips with his, rolling her onto her back. His tongue dove into her mouth, searching eagerly for hers. Her fingers were tugging frantically at his curls, while his hand slid up and down her waist, tugging her shirt up slightly. When his fingers found the bare skin of her waist, he could feel her shiver at the touch.

He started to kiss across her cheek, before he kissed her earlobe. “Please, don’t ever think I don’t want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he confessed into her ear, before he kissed down her neck.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been kissing and sucking at her pulse point… he wasn’t good at measuring time anymore. But, he didn’t stop until Clarke pulled him off her neck, her eyes gazing at him with longing. He crashed his lips back into hers, as her arms wrapped around his back, pulling him even closer to her.

He could feel her quickened breathing as her chest rose and fell against his. He moaned into her mouth, feeling her hands push up his shirt. He couldn’t help but smirk against her lips, before he pulled away to tug off his shirt.

Clarke sat up, her eyes drifting down to his chest. He pulled her into his lap, letting her legs rest on either side of his waist. He moved to pull up her shirt, checking her eyes for any sign of hesitation. She nodded sweetly at him, before he tugged it over her head.

His eyes lingered on her heavy breasts just a little too long. But, he couldn’t help it. Her pale breasts were just inches away from him, and far more beautiful than his mind would let him imagine. His fingers ghosted her skin as they travelled up to caress her chest. He could barely hear Clarke’s soft gasp over his own whimper at the first touch. As he palmed her perfect chest, her hands rested over his, encouraging him to squeeze even harder. And, the sight of her small, pale hands, over his much larger and darker hands as he held her breasts was almost too much for Bellamy.

His lips were parted, and his eyes just couldn’t leave the intoxicating sight. And, his ears could only hear his own heart pounding and Clarke’s soft moans.

When her hands left his, he pouted at the loss of contact. But, then he was met with the feeling of Clarke’s lips on his shoulder, and her hands tracing his bare back.

His hands abandoned her breasts, travelling toward her back so he could pull her closer to him. Then, he felt her chest up against his, while her lips continued to travel along his shoulder and chest. He buried his face into her neck, breathing in the smell of her shampoo, before he started pressing gentle kisses to her neck. They held each other like this for what felt like hours, but their kisses never became less urgent, less hungry.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t touched before tonight. It was all they did. Bellamy kept at least one hand on Clarke whenever he could, terrified that if he let go for even a moment that she would disappear. And, he had spent too many years without touching or being touched… that he craved it every single second.

But, he had never been touched like this. If he had, he surely would have gone mad in that cell… because his heart would ache too much for this feeling.

He could feel Clarke kissing up his neck, her breathing feeling shallower. He had to pry his own lips off her skin so he could look at her. He cupped her face with his hand, noticing how lustfully Clarke gazed back at him.

“You sure?” he whispered, and she nodded slowly, her lips parting in anticipation. He slowly pushed her onto her back, before letting his lips trail down her neck. Then, he kissed down her chest, in the valley between her breasts. He had to remind himself that he had his entire lifetime to feast on her beautiful breasts, before continued to kiss down her soft stomach.

His eyes flickered up to hers, as his thumbs traced the elastic of her pajama shorts. She was biting her lip, watching him eagerly. He pressed another kiss just below her belly button, before his thumbs dug into her shorts and panties, slowly tugging them down. He sat up, as she lifted her hips.

Moments later, Bellamy had Clarke, completely naked, laid out before him. Suddenly, saying that he _wanted_ her didn’t seem like a strong enough statement. He _ached_ for her, _needed_ her.

“So beautiful,” was all he could utter, as he pushed one of her thighs onto his shoulder. His fingers grazed her glistening cunt, and he smirked to himself. He had a perfect view of how much Clarke _wanted_ him. He pressed a small kiss to her pussy, earning a loud gasp from Clarke.

He let his tongue travel outside her folds, and Clarke already started to squirm for more friction. Then, he let his tongue ghost up her slit. His fingers started pushing her folds apart, and he pressed a sweet kiss to her clit. He glanced up at Clarke, seeing her chest rise and fall rapidly, before he dove in and started sucking her clit.

“Oh my God,” he heard Clarke murmur, as he slowly sunk a finger inside her. A growl escaped his lips as he felt just how tight she was around his finger. His own arousal was becoming harder to ignore, as he found himself slowly grinding into the mattress. His mouth latched back onto her clit, as his finger kept thrusting in and out of her clenching pussy.

After a while, his eyes fluttered shut, as he listened to Clarke’s soft moans. When she was ready, he pressed another finger into her.

When he glanced back up at her, her head was thrown back, and her hands were gripping onto the sheets. So, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, swearing that he would dream of the beautiful whimper that escaped Clarke’s lips for the rest of his life.

He thrust his tongue into her roughly, holding her hips down with his hands as he devoured her. Her moans and pleas and whimpers sounded like beautiful music to him, as he lost himself inside her.

And, as she came undone for him, Bellamy swore that he had never witnessed something so beautiful. He fell into a trance as he kept thrusting his tongue into her, where all he could feel was Clarke’s fingers in his hair and all he could hear was her murmuring _I love you_ and _please_ and _Bell_ over and over.

When he snapped out of it, he lifted his head to see her dazed, blue eyes gazing back at him warmly. He lifted himself up, tugging his pants and boxers off awkwardly… not that Clarke particularly cared. She was still recovering from her orgasm, with trembling legs and labored breaths.

Bellamy climbed back over her, his lips crashing into hers. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands clinging to his neck.

“Was that the first time anyone ever—”

“Yeah,” Clarke whispered with a huge grin on her face. With a smug grin of his own, his lips melted back into hers.

For a few minutes, their kisses were slow and tender… but, it didn’t take long until they were clinging to each other again, their kisses becoming more ravenous as the heat grew between them.

“You’re sure that you’re sure?” Bellamy whispered into her neck.

“Yeah, Bell. Please,” she pleaded, her voice catching slightly. He pulled back, gently nudging her legs farther apart. He glanced back at Clarke while he bit his lip, looking for any doubt or hesitation in her eyes… and finding none. He took a deep breath, as he lined his cock up with her entrance. He watched her face closely as he slowly pressed into her, searching for any sign of discomfort.

Her eyes fluttered shut as soon as he was fully seated in her. She was so tight and warm around him… he was having a hard time getting his thoughts in order.

“Is this okay?” Bellamy asked, as he slowly lowered himself on her.

“More than okay,” she whispered breathily, and Bellamy started to slide out of her, before thrusting back in… keeping a slow pace. He bit his own lip as Clarke’s eyes reopened. Her lips were parted, as her eyes raked over his face. “I love you,” she finally said, as her hand reached out to cup his cheek.

“I love you too,” he replied, before crashing his lips into hers. He used one hand to keep himself propped up, almost scared that he would crush Clarke. His other hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling her face as close to his as he could. His lips were devouring hers, as he felt his own moans echo in her mouth.

He kept his lips on hers as his hips started slamming into hers. His eyes fluttered shut, as he tried to keep his thoughts together. But, he couldn’t focus on anything except how _perfect_ she felt, how he would never be close enough to her.

It had been too long for him, and he had been dreaming of her for too long as well. He knew that he couldn’t last much longer, not when her every touch made him feel like he was on fire. He was lost in her, unsure of how he could have lived before touching her. He wasn’t so sure that he was even living before anymore. Because now, he was here, feeling more loved, more wanted, more _alive_ than he ever had.

He buried his face into her neck, hearing her moan his name and that she loved him repeatedly. He kissed her beautiful throat while her hair tickled his face, as he focused on the feeling of her pulsating around his cock.

When he finally tore his face away from her neck to look at her face, he knew he only had moments of control left in him.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against her lips, before resting his lips on hers.

“I love you too, Bell. So much,” she whispered breathlessly. “Come on, come for me. I want to feel you,” she pleaded, before his lips crashed against hers, grunting immediately into her mouth as he started to come undone inside of her.

He could barely feel her nails on his back or hear her soft encouragements as he erupted into her. He was too lost to register anything other than how perfect this felt or how desperately he loved this girl.

As his thoughts slowly started to become more coherent, he realized that he was still kissing Clarke… more tenderly than before. He eventually pulled out of her, before pulling her onto his chest. He tried to think of something to say to her… but no words could ever describe how he felt at this moment. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, peppering kisses all over her gorgeous face.

He kept his eyes on her as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Bellamy remembered the first night he heard her voice, how scared she sounded. He remembered thinking that there was no hope for her, and his heart started to break at the thought. So, he told her a story of hope, realizing it was actually calming her down.

Bellamy had lost his hope more than a year before that night, after hearing and seeing too many others die before him. Never in a million years would he have dreamt of being free again.

But, he might as well had been telling himself that story. Because, while he figured his Elpis had left him long ago, she only showed up that night. And, proved it when she told him a story. And, proved it again and again every day and every night.

He wouldn’t make the mistake of letting go of his hope… not again. Not when she was right here in his arms.


	13. The Happiest Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit emotional, you guys. A lot of Clarke saying she's fine until she's not. 
> 
> Plot wise, it's not a super intensive chapter. This chapter and the last one are more about emotionally catching up. But, buckle in you guys, because you know how much I love the dramatics. Next chapter, I'm gonna be the most extra.

Clarke jerked awake that morning. It wasn’t that she had a nightmare or anything like that. It’s just how she had begun to wake up… as if she was panicked she would wake up and find herself back in that cell.

She took a deep breath, glancing to her side to see Bellamy still asleep. She was fine, she reminded herself over and over again. She needed to be fine. Bellamy needed her to be fine.

She settled back down next to him, tucking herself into his chest again. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, and felt his hand move slightly on her back.

“How early is it?” she heard him grumble sleepily into her ear.

“Too early. Go back to sleep,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy pulled her even closer, his face buried into her neck. She closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his breath on her neck as it evened back out.

She tried to let that be enough to lull her back to sleep… but, she couldn’t relax. She had tried so hard to relax inside the safe house, to let herself get lost in her art again, to just be grateful to be alive. Last night was the only time she had been successful in keeping her mind off her time in the cells, and that was just because of Bellamy.

She had her tears in this house, just like everyone else did. But, Clarke kept hers as private as she could. The last thing she needed was for Bellamy to see her cry any more than he already had. He was having the hardest time adjusting to this life, and he didn’t need to deal with her problems too.

So, she kept her concerns to herself. And, when Bellamy was fast asleep, she let her mind wander back to those cells… trying to remember everything she could about her surroundings. She just needed to figure out how she could have gotten out. She’d be able to sleep through the night again if she could just figure out how to beat Cage. Logically, she knew she was safe. But, if she knew how to escape, then maybe the nightmares would finally leave her alone.

 

“Do you find yourself having nightmares?” the therapist asked her, and Clarke nodded with a sigh. Each week, they were all supposed to meet with a therapist for a psych evaluation. She was sitting upstairs in one of the smaller rooms that was probably supposed to be an office, while the others waited downstairs for their appointments.

“But, they’re not too bad,” Clarke conceded, especially after hearing about the horrible ones that Murphy and Echo had been having. “Getting to sleep is the real problem for me.”

“Problems turning your mind off?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and Clarke wanted to argue that turning her mind off wasn’t the problem. She couldn’t just turn her mind off. Her quick thinking was one of the reasons that they got out. If she had turned her mind off then, she could be still in a cell, slowly dying.

“I just let my mind drift back there sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug, before glancing toward the window. It was sunny out today, and Clarke was aching to go outside. She knew she couldn’t… but, still. “It’s like a puzzle for me. I know there had to be a way out of there. And now, I can think more clearly and have access to research to help me. I just want to figure out how I could have gotten out.”

“Is that because you’re worried you’re going to end up back there?” he asked, and Clarke bit her lip.

“I’m just saying that I could be prepared. It’s not like I think Cage will abduct me again. But, I think I would feel better if I just knew more, you know? Like, if I knew how to break out of the cell or how to avoid breathing in that gas… the nightmares wouldn’t bother me as much,” Clarke replied, shaking her head slightly.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he shifted, as he flipped through papers. “How is Bellamy doing?”

“Not great. He cries a lot in the shower or when he thinks he’s alone. He’s constantly tense,” Clarke listed, leaning her head back in her chair.

“I know you are closer to him than the others, that you two have a more romantic relationship. Do you ever think about your future with him?” Clarke’s head snapped up, as she narrowed her eyes at the man.

“It’s really hard to imagine a future right now. I don’t know where any of us will be months from now. We could all be still in this safe house, we could be shipped off for Witness Protection, or we could all get abducted or killed,” Clarke snapped, before she forced herself to take a breath. The man was watching her closely, but didn’t interrupt. “Thinking about our future doesn’t help me sleep at night, because all I can think about is how it’s still just a hypothetical.”

“You two are safe. You are being protected. Nothing is going to happen to you,” he reassured, and Clarke scoffed at that.

“Cage is still out there. And, for all we know, there could be hundreds of people like him, trying to replicate nightblood. Bellamy and I could spend the rest of our lives being hunted and running for our lives,” Clarke growled.

“But, do you see the two of you running together?” he asked, and Clarke nodded. Of course, she did. She couldn’t imagine her life without Bellamy in it. But, she also wasn’t stupid.

Clarke wasn’t going to fantasize about the two of them settling down, getting married, and having kids. Not when there was too high of a chance that they wouldn’t live that long. She couldn’t just let herself imagine a future that would get taken away from her.

She knew Bellamy was her future… but, she wasn’t about to break her own heart by romanticizing the possibilities. They loved each other in a way that they would never be able to love anyone else. He was her home. And, regardless of what happened to them, that would always be true.

 

While the others were waiting for their appointments, Clarke was in her room, sketching. She was racking her brain, trying to figure out how the labs and offices were arranged back there. She was fairly certain that Lorelei’s office had a window… which probably meant it was the closest one to the door. Cage’s didn’t, and none of the labs had windows.

She drew out one of her guesses for the floor plans, pointing out possible places where an exit to the outside could be.

She assumed that Lorelei’s office was near the lab Clarke found herself in the day she hit her head. Well, the day that Emerson hit her head. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what direction she heard the screams from.

She remembered Emerson standing off toward Clarke’s right. She remembered keeping her eyes on the door. She remembered Cage yelling, “Put that phone down.”

Clarke leaned her head against the wall, trying to remember anything else that would help her.

_“This has all gotten out of control,” Lorelei shouted back, and Clarke jumped at her harsh tone. She heard Emerson mutter something, but she couldn’t make sense of it._

_“No, it’s not. We’re fine. We’re on schedule,” Cage growled. Clarke grabbed the edge of the table, realizing that she wasn’t restrained like she normally was. Why didn’t they restrain her this time?_

_“She could fix this. I’m dialing her now,” Lorelei spat._

_“Put that phone down, or else.” Emerson started to move toward the door, looking nervous. Clarke blinked a few times, as she examined the room around her. She spotted one of the sharp tools that Cage used, and she slowly moved to grab it._

_Then, she heard the blood curdling scream in the room next to her, and Emerson started unlocking the door frantically. Clarke knew she wouldn’t get this chance again, so she started to sneak up on Emerson as quietly as she could._

_“Becca can’t save you now,” Cage growled, and Clarke froze. She had been convinced that Becca was dead. This didn’t make sense._

_Then, Emerson turned around and saw Clarke with the scalpel in her hand. And, she tried to run away from him, to run back to the exam table. But, something hit her head before she could get far enough away, and she found herself flying down toward a table._

“I knew it,” Clarke heard someone say, and she jumped. She glanced up to see Echo closing the door behind her, before storming over toward Clarke. “You’re not okay, are you?” she snapped, and Clarke realized that her hands were shaking. She tried to turn the page of her sketchbook back to one of her drawings of the sky, to cover up any trace of what she had been doing… but, it was too late. Echo had already seen what Clarke had been working on.

It wasn’t until Echo’s arms were wrapped around Clarke’s that she even registered the tears on her cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Clarke murmured, her hands still shaking as she clung to Echo. She buried her face into Echo’s shirt, trying to get Becca, Lorelei’s scream, that scalpel, the way Cage growled… out of her head.

She wasn’t sure how long Echo held her there, but when Echo pulled away, she moved to lock Clarke’s bedroom door.

“Please don’t tell Bellamy about this,” Clarke whispered, seeing her teardrops mess up her layout drawing.

“Why are you drawing this?” Echo asked, gesturing to the sketchpad.

“I don’t know. Just maybe if I figure out a few plans for how we could have escaped, one of them could work if it happened to us again,” Clarke said, shaking her head quickly.

“Clarke, you can’t plan for everything,” Echo argued.

“Yes, I can!” Clarke shouted, the tears flowing down her cheeks as she shakily gripped even harder on her pencil. “I couldn’t then because I didn’t know what I know now. But, now I have time and my head doesn’t hurt anymore. I can figure it out.”

And, the way Echo looked back at her was more pained than she had ever seen her. Echo looked genuinely heartbroken, her eyes threatening tears.

“Clarke, you’re not okay,” Echo whispered, and Clarke knew that was true. She was a mess. Her brain was a jumbled mess. “You have listened to me, to Roan, to Bellamy… you’ve listened to us break down and you’ve held us up. And, we all thought you were okay, so we kept coming to you. But, you’re not okay.”

“I will be as soon as I figure this out,” Clarke insisted as she flipped through the pages, before landing on her sketch of the cells. “Like, small amounts of the gas had to seep into the neighboring cells. Maybe we could have lured it into the neighboring cells more and then it wouldn’t have knocked out whoever Cage was bringing in. Then, that person could have attacked him and gotten us all out.”

“And Emerson would have killed whoever that person was before they got the rest of us out,” Echo pointed out.

“But, Emerson is dead now. I killed him,” Clarke reminded her… even though the way she said it sounded like she was reminding herself. Then, Echo snatched the sketchpad out of her hands. “Echo, please,” Clarke begged.

“Why are you obsessing over this?” Echo snapped, her eyes looking almost terrified.

“Because my brain is what kept me alive,” Clarke replied, and Echo cocked her head to the side to indicate she was still listening. “Last time I let my guard down, Cage drugged and abducted me. But, if I just don’t let my guard down, he won’t get me this time.”

“You know that’s not necessarily true,” Echo replied, and Clarke’s chest started to ache. She knew that, deep down. She really did.

“I started having less nightmares when I started doing this. It makes me feel like I’m doing something instead of just waiting around,” Clarke explained, looking down at her hands. Then, she heard Echo sit down next to her, before sliding the sketchbook back over to her.

“Lorelei’s office is not near the exit. But, the examination room is,” Echo said, and Clarke’s eyes flickered up to meet hers. Echo still looked frustrated… but, she also looked like she understood Clarke. “From now on, you and I are going to work on this. Got it?”

“Why are you doing this?” Clarke asked, and Echo let out a sigh.

“Because I need peace of mind too. And fucking my brains out isn’t working,” Echo said with a small smirk. “But, there are conditions. You aren’t allowed to work on this when I’m not around, because someone needs to keep an eye on you. And, you aren’t allowed to let me or Murphy or Roan vent to you anymore. I know I can’t stop you from being there for Bellamy, but you don’t need anyone else’s anxieties on top of your own.”

Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but Echo glared at her.

“If I find out that you’re letting Roan or Murphy tell you about their nightmares, I’ll tell Bellamy that you’re not okay. And, none of us want Bellamy worrying any more about you.”

Clarke nodded, before letting out a breath. “Alright, help me fix this sketch,” Clarke said, as she flipped to a new page.

 

Clarke’s days started falling into a rhythm. She woke up with Bellamy every morning. He would sleep in more than she would, but would press lazy kisses to her cheek and neck as he woke up.

She always found Murphy in the kitchen making breakfast. He would immediately put Clarke to work, and Clarke would always burn at least one thing. But, she was getting better. At least, that’s what Murphy was telling her. He could be just lying.

By noon, everyone would be out of bed. Murphy and Bellamy would try to get some exercise, and occasionally Roan joined in. Meanwhile, Clarke and Echo would sneak up to Echo’s room to update the sketches and talk out potential escape theories.

Bellamy would always say he was going to shower and take a nap, but would usually only get around to the shower part. She always climbed into bed with him right before he fell asleep, and almost always found herself underneath him as he kissed every inch of her.

In the late afternoons, she found herself sitting between Bellamy’s legs as she leaned back on his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. She would work on her actual sketches while he would flip through some of the books in the house.

In the evenings, they would all gather in the living room and play mindless board games. Roan wasn’t allowed to be the banker in Monopoly anymore, and somehow, Murphy always ended up with the most kids when they played Life.

Once everyone had gone their separate ways, Clarke found herself in bed with Bellamy. She was still having a hard time turning her mind off so she could go to sleep. But, she wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night anymore unless it was because of Bellamy’s nightmares. And, when his nightmares did occur, Clarke would try to kiss the pain away. Almost always, he let go of that fear and held onto her, as their clothes ended up strewn across the room.

She’d fall asleep again, this time completely naked and intertwined with Bellamy. And, when she woke up, the whole routine would start again.

 

“You’re still struggling with turning your mind off, though?” her therapist asked, and Clarke let out an annoyed huff.

“Not as much. Like, sometimes my mind would drift there. But, ever since Echo and I started bouncing stuff off each other, it’s gotten easier. Like, I have a designated time scheduled for going back there,” Clarke explained, probably moving her hands a little too frantically.

“And you feel like this is productive?”

“It’s more productive than just sitting around all day wondering when the FBI is going to find that monster,” Clarke snapped, and he flinched at the harshness in her voice. “Sorry,” Clarke muttered, sinking back into her seat.

“No, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be frustrated about it. It can’t be easy to have your future be out of your control. But, you also need to trust that others are doing everything they can to help you,” he replied, and Clarke bit her lip. “How about we talk about something we haven’t discussed before?” Clarke’s eyes flickered up to his, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Why did you run away from home?”

“What?” Clarke snapped.

“Well, you always say the trauma started for you when you were abducted. But, the fact is that you ran away from home. So, clearly, things were already bad enough for you. I want to know what caused you to run.”

“My mom framed my dad for something he didn’t do. And then, he got killed in prison, and I didn’t want to be near her anymore,” Clarke said, reciting the same answer she gave everyone else.

“So, you thought your best option was to run away?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. Clarke looked down at her hands as she swallowed.

She didn’t have any explanation for him. She had torn herself apart over and over inside her cell over the reckless decision to run from home. It didn’t matter how much she planned ahead of time. A stupid plan would always be a stupid plan, regardless of how much preparation went into it.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, and all Clarke could hear was the ticking of the clock.

“Alright, let me just share my thoughts with you. Sometimes, you admit to me that you don’t feel like you have as much of a right to be upset about your time in captivity as the others, since you weren’t there as long. Which is why you say that you don’t like to talk to Bellamy about what’s going on in your head,” he said, and Clarke slowly tilted her head to glance at him. “But, trauma is trauma, Clarke. You are allowed to be rattled by this. It doesn’t matter how long you were in there.”

“Well, I didn’t have to see anyone die,” Clarke muttered.

“No, but you lived in constant fear that you might have to,” he pointed out, and Clarke let out a groan.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke whispered, and he immediately opened his mouth to argue with her. “No, unless you went through something like that, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You can’t just tell me not to worry about Cage and that I will be protected, because I should have been safe in the first place but wasn’t! Some of the people Cage took weren’t even adults. This man stalked me and hunted me down. And, there isn’t a lot I can do about it. But, I can figure out what I could have done differently and pray that I never have to use that knowledge,” Clarke snapped.

 

She couldn’t hold herself together enough to go back down to the living room. She went straight to her room, and buried herself under blankets in the bed she shared with Bellamy.

Clarke wasn’t stupid. She knew she wasn’t okay. But, none of them were. How could they be after what they all went through?

She heaved into her pillow, trying to think of anything that could calm her down. She used to think about her dad… but, he wasn’t working. Neither was mentally painting a picture. Nothing could bring her peace, not when she lived in a world that could be taken from her overnight.

She had already lost her dad, and in a way, her mother too. She lost her boyfriend, even though Finn was kind of the worst. She lost her friends. The life she used to have wasn’t hers anymore. It had been replaced with that dark box she found herself trapped in. The box where she had to check for her friend’s voices each day to make sure they were still alive. The box where a girl who came long before her killed herself. The box that Bellamy had to sit next to, listening to each new victim pour their fears into him until their fears became a reality. The box that Clarke thought she would die in.

“You’re okay,” she heard Bellamy whisper, and for a moment, Clarke thought she was back there. Her head popped up, seeing Bellamy climb into bed next to her. That’s right. She wasn’t there anymore. She was here with Bellamy. She could touch Bellamy now. There wasn’t a wall keeping them apart.

“No, I’m not,” Clarke confessed, as she buried her face into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and she could feel his lips at her temple.

“Yes, you are. I’m here. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise,” he murmured, and she tried to focus on the feeling of his fingers in her hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over, her voice probably too muffled for him to even understand.

“Clarke, I need you to breathe for me,” he whispered, and Clarke’s brain flashed back to that first night in her dark cell. She was fairly certain he said the exact same thing to her then.

“I’m trying,” she murmured.

“Just listen to me, okay?” he whispered into her ear. “You are going to be alright.”

She kept heaving into his shirt, smelling the faint smell of laundry detergent in the fabric. But, she nodded to indicate she was listening.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

“I know you’re out of happy mythology stories,” Clarke muttered, and she felt Bellamy’s chuckle vibrate through his chest. “What? I’m not exactly in the mood for one of your tragic ones,” Clarke joked, and he started laughing even harder. Then, she felt his hand cup her cheek as he tilted her head up. She blinked a few times as she looked at him.

“How about I tell you the happiest story I know, then?” he asked with a small smile, and Clarke nodded, before settling her head back down on his chest. His hand was resting on the top of her head, occasionally dipping down her hair, combing through it. Clarke closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat and his beautiful breathing. “There was once an angry young man, who didn’t exactly have the best childhood. He lost his mother, and had to take care of his sister, even though he was too young to be able to provide for her.” And, Clarke already recognized the story.

Clarke sucked in a breath, and her fingers started tracing Bellamy’s collar. His other hand found hers, resting gently on top of it.

“So, he made a deal with the devil. He found a way to take care of his sister, and in exchange, he was cast into Hell. For years, he had to stay there. He made friends and he lost friends. Over time, he decided to make the most of his time in Hell. He would comfort his friends until they weren’t there for him to comfort anymore.”

Clarke’s eyes flickered up to his, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the ceiling with a strange look on his face.

“He liked to think that if he helped his friends find peace, that he would eventually find peace. But, he never did. Then, one night, a new person was cast into Hell with him. He did what he always did. He told her a story about hope, just trying to make her reality a little less grim.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, and his head turned to look at her. It wasn’t until this moment that Clarke realized she had stopped crying. He had done it again, somehow. Then, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and kept his lips close instead of pulling away.

“After he calmed her down, he found himself listening to her talk to one of the others. He knew he didn’t have long before the devil came for him, but he listened to her beautiful voice until it was his time. And, when he came back, she tried to take care of him like he had taken care of her. She told him a story of hope, and miraculously, he found it,” he said, and his eyes were focused on hers so intensely that Clarke felt like she would melt in his arms.

“So, he would talk to her every night. He told her stories and fell asleep to the sound of her breathing. He did whatever he could to make her laugh. He dreamt of her every night. He fell so hard for her, and he had never felt anything so powerful in his life,” he kept talking, as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes still boring into hers.

“One day, they escaped Hell. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t painless. But, they miraculously did it. And while those horrible memories were still there, they had a world of possibilities in front of them,” he whispered, before pressing his lips to her forehead again.

“And how does that story end?” Clarke had to ask, as Bellamy’s fingers pushed the remaining tears off her face.

“Like this. With me holding you in my arms and telling you that I love you. With us safe from harm,” he whispered, and Clarke let out a breath. “And now, we get to start a new story. Maybe we wait around here for a bit longer, or maybe our problems all disappear overnight. We could travel the world, or we could find a small house somewhere. We’ll just have to wait and see,” he said with a small grin.

“I love you,” Clarke whispered, as her hand found the back of his neck. She pressed her lips against his lazily, and his smile made the kiss a bit messy.

“And, I love you,” he replied, still looking at her with such warm tenderness. “Personally, I think our first story had a bit too much drama. I’m thinking we try a simpler one next time,” he teased, and Clarke giggled as he peppered kisses all over her face.


	14. We Have Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here comes the drama again. Big BIG cliffhanger at the end. Just warning you guys.
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback, you guys! Only a few more chapters left of this one. Thanks for the love!

Roan looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Bellamy’s eyes flickered back to Murphy, who was pressing his lips together.

“I just don’t know why she wouldn’t just tell me that she was having these problems. She’s been holing up with Echo, working herself up more instead of just talking to me,” Bellamy groaned, and now, Roan really looked like he wanted to say something.

“She probably just doesn’t want to worry you. I wouldn’t think too hard about it,” Murphy replied, but Bellamy kept his eyes on Roan.

“Come on. What are you thinking?” Bellamy asked with a sigh, and Roan’s lips twitched slightly.

“It makes sense,” Roan conceded, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “You and Murphy were together for a long time, have a lot of shared history. Clarke and Echo have the same kind of connection. It just makes sense she’d prefer to talk to her,” Roan finished, and Bellamy knew that he wasn’t done. There was more going on in Roan’s head.

“There’s more,” Bellamy said, gesturing for Roan to keep talking. He let out a sigh, leaning his head back in the chair.

“I have a feeling this is going to turn into a fight,” Murphy muttered, before Bellamy threw a pillow at him to shut him up. He kept his eyes fixed on Roan.

“It’s not like she’s even talking to Echo about what she’s feeling. She’s just making plans. I wouldn’t read too much into it,” Roan said, and Bellamy let out a huff.

It had been days since he found Clarke sobbing in their bed. And, sure, he knew deep down that she wasn’t all that okay. But, on the surface, she seemed to be just as fine as Roan was.

It was eating away at Bellamy that she couldn’t talk to him about what was going on in her head. He couldn’t help calm her down if he didn’t know what was specifically haunting her.

“Did you get all this from your pillow talk with Echo?” Murphy joked, before Roan reached over to smack him on the back of the head. Then, Roan got up to walk out of the room.

“See what you do?” Bellamy asked, and Murphy let out an annoyed huff. Bellamy followed after Roan into the kitchen, and Roan just started pacing in front of the refrigerator. “You okay?”

Roan’s head popped up, narrowing his eyes back at Bellamy. “No. I’m not.”

“Is this about what Murphy said or…?”

“Do you actually care?” Roan asked, bracing his hands on either side of the sink.

“Of course, I actually care,” Bellamy snapped, and Roan started chuckling darkly as he turned around, leaning back on the counter.

“You reach out to everyone else in this house, checking up on them, even when it’s not healthy for you to. But, you have to force yourself to check up on me. I wonder why that is,” Roan said, his eyes piercing into Bellamy’s. “And, you’re not the only one. Echo and Murphy have a hard time feeling any sympathy.”

“What are you saying?”

“I feel like my time in the cells isn’t taken as seriously as the rest of yours because of how little time I spent there,” Roan blurted out, and Bellamy swallowed. “And, I get it. I was hardly there compared to the three years you spent there. But, I understand why Clarke doesn’t share what’s going on in her head. Because how can her misery compete with yours?”

“Misery is misery. It’s not a competition,” Bellamy snapped. It would be ridiculous for Clarke to think that way, especially given how she had been on death’s door for so long.

“I’m not telling you that I disagree. But, if Clarke is anything like me, it’s in her head too. I mean, you witnessed so many deaths and she only witnessed one.”

“Well, luckily, Clarke isn’t anything like you. So, she wouldn’t think like that,” Bellamy argued, and Roan cocked his head to the side.

“Her story is more like mine than yours. Think about it,” Roan muttered, before brushing past him. Bellamy started to storm after him, but really didn’t want to chase Roan up the stairs. So, he just stood there, glaring up at him as he disappeared into the upstairs hallway.

“He’s got a point,” Murphy murmured, and Bellamy’s head snapped in his direction.

“What?”

“Think about it. You, me, and Echo all got saved by Becca just by chance. We got lucky that Becca’s experiments worked, especially since we couldn’t afford to live anyways. But, Roan and Clarke on the other hand…” Murphy explained, as Bellamy slowly stepped toward him. “I mean, they were rich kids whose parents had the means to keep them alive. All things considered, they have pretty similar lives.”

“But, they turned out very different,” Bellamy argued.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m saying that we all fit into different groups, and they fit in the same one. The three of us didn’t get the nightblood solution because it didn’t exist back then, and they did. So, when the experiments started, the two of them were drained of blood and were on the brink of death repeatedly, while us three got better. They were the newer two, and we were the older three,” Murphy replied. “I mean, Clarke had been with us for a year. But, considering how our previous years had been, she was there for a much less dramatic year. I could see her thinking about these differences and deciding that you had it much worse and that she didn’t want to burden you with her lesser problems.”

Bellamy let out a breath as he sat down next to Murphy. He saw where he was coming from, to an extent. He was willing to admit that he hadn’t made as much of an effort to comfort Roan. But, that guy had only been in there for maybe a month. It was easy for Bellamy to dismiss any struggles he had compared to everyone else’s. And that was… kind of wrong.

“So, what do I do with that?” Bellamy groaned.

“I don’t know. Ask her about it? Get Roan to talk to her? How the fuck should I know?” Murphy muttered.

 

Days passed, and Bellamy waited anxiously for Clarke to let something slip. Any hint about what was going on in her head, any admission of her own anxiety. But, she was careful. Too careful.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” Bellamy finally asked her as she climbed into bed.

“What?”

“Clarke, I found you sobbing in bed having a full-on panic attack. I know you’re not as okay as you’re letting on. Talk to me,” he pleaded, and Clarke turned on her side, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Bell?” Clarke whispered, her voice catching slightly.

“Anything,” he begged, and Clarke pushed herself upwards so she could sit up.

“I’m fine. I really am. Just don’t worry about what’s going on with me,” Clarke muttered, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Bellamy was sitting up now too, pulling her backwards so she could lean back on his chest.

“I am always going to worry about what’s going on with you. It’s better for me to hear what’s actually wrong, though, otherwise, I’m just going to worry more and go to the worst case scenario automatically,” he explained, burying his face in Clarke’s shoulder.

They sat like that for a few minutes in silence, and Bellamy could faintly make out the soft sound of Echo and Roan arguing downstairs. The two of them had been getting on each other’s nerves for a while now, and these fights between them were getting to be all too common.

Not that anyone in this house really had anything real to fight over. There were no stakes now. Just five people stuck together until it was safe for them to separate.

“I was going to die next,” Clarke finally said, her head turning slightly so she could barely see Bellamy. He moved away slightly so she didn’t have to strain her neck to look at him. “You know that, right?”

“No, you weren’t,” Bellamy snapped.

“Bellamy, when Roan got there, Cage didn’t have a use for me anymore. Roan has the most recent sample of Becca’s work, making me obsolete for his research,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy pulled away, shaking his head. “That last week, he was draining me of blood samples. Hell, I’m pretty sure he didn’t think I would survive the trip to the new place.”

“Don’t talk like that. It’s ridiculous,” Bellamy muttered.

“To you, yeah. But, Cage didn’t care if I lived or died. These are the things going through my head,” Clarke said, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered up to hers. Now, he understood. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk about these things. It’s that she couldn’t talk about them to _him._

The darkest part of him could admit that Clarke was right. He was seeing it with his own eyes. She was dying in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it. And, hearing these words from her now were too painful. Because, even thinking about the past potential of Clarke dying was such a revolting and unimaginable impossibility to him. Even when he knew she was okay now.

He could see it in Clarke’s eyes. She knew back then that she was dying. Roan had even once told Bellamy that she admitted as much to him. But, she never once confessed that horrible realization to Bellamy. Because, she knew he couldn’t handle it. Not back then. It would have made him go mad, especially knowing that he would just have to watch it happen.

“You can talk to me about these things,” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke’s eyes pleaded with him.

“Bell, I can’t. Because, I can’t have you look at me like this,” she replied, and Bellamy looked down at his hands, realizing how heartbroken he must have been looking at her as she admitted that she was going to die. “There are certain things you’re not ready to hear and that I’m not ready to say, and that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Bellamy said, hearing his own voice catching.

“Yes, it is. Because, we have time,” Clarke replied sweetly, and his eyes fluttered up to meet hers again, as his chest flooded with a warmth that he recognized as hope.

“We have time,” Bellamy agreed, as his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her toward him. She crashed her lips into his, as she awkwardly climbed into his lap. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, as his hands grabbed her lower back.

“We have so much time,” Clarke whispered breathlessly against his lips. “An entire lifetime of time to figure this shit out.”

He moaned into her mouth as his lips plummeted back towards hers, while his hands started tugging her shirt up. He loved the sound of an entire lifetime.

Their lips broke apart so he could tug the t-shirt over her head. He threw it onto the floor, before his lips found her shoulder so he could kiss a line up through her neck and cheek back toward her lips.

He got to her pulse point before Clarke’s fingers ran through his curls, tugging his head backwards so he would look at her.

“When we are safe for real, I’ll tell every secret you want to hear. I promise,” she whispered, before kissing his cheek softly. He closed his eyes, as her lips travelled closer to his ear. He liked to imagine their life when they were safe for real.

He knew that when that day came he would be able to hear Clarke talk about how she almost died without his entire body revolting against him. Because, it would have been another lifetime ago by then. They could both cry and break down and be vulnerable, knowing that together they were safe. And, eventually, it would be such a distant memory.

“I can’t wait until that day,” Bellamy admitted, and Clarke’s lips left his earlobe as she pulled back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Where do you want to go?”

“What?” Clarke asked with a small smile as her eyes narrowed back at him.

“When all of this is done and it’s just you and me, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke whispered with a quirk in her smile. “I just figured we’d go back to your home. You know, be with Octavia and I could meet Miller.”

Bellamy tried to keep his smile under control as he kissed her, but he couldn’t help himself. His smile made the kiss too messy… too much teeth. But, it was just as sweet, especially as he felt her smile against his.

“I like that plan,” Bellamy finally whispered, and Clarke buried her face into his neck, giggling slightly. “And, what would we do once we get there?”

“What do you mean what would we do?” Clarke asked, chuckling into his ear as he wrapped his arms tight around her back.

“Would we chill out for a while or would we immediately run off and get married?” he asked with a grin, as Clarke pushed herself up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Would we get a house or an apartment? Do we want pets?”

“I don’t know. Why are you trying to figure this all out right now?” she asked with the sweetest giggle in her voice.

“Because it’s what I think about when I’m trying to calm down. I picture our future and eventually, all panic disappears. And, I’d like a better idea of what we want,” Bellamy whispered, before Clarke grabbed both sides of his face and crashed her lips into his. His hands ran up her bare back, as her tongue found his. He whimpered into her mouth as her fingers found their way back in his hair.

He thought that after a while he would get used to this. That touching Clarke would just feel normal. But, there was nothing normal about the fire he felt when his skin touched hers. Even something as simple as holding her hand reminded him just how alive he was.

“House,” Clarke finally whispered as she pulled away from his lips, resting her forehead against his. “So, we can have a yard for our dog. And, I’m already basically married to you so I don’t care when it officially happens.”

“How about as quickly as possible then?” he asked with a small smirk, and Clarke rolled her eyes at him, as she started to pull up on his shirt.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered with an adorable smile as she tugged his shirt off.

“You love me,” Bellamy murmured, before pushing Clarke onto her back.

“Yeah,” Clarke conceded breathlessly, as Bellamy’s lips started travelling down her neck. “I love you,” she whispered, as Bellamy moaned against her throat. He loved the sound of those words on her lips. Whenever he said them to her, he felt like the words didn’t accurately describe what he was feeling. But, something about how she said them gave the words another layer of meaning. He wasn’t just hearing that he was loved. He was feeling it in every bone in his body.

“I love you too,” he replied, glancing up at her, seeing her gaze back at him with such warmth.

Without words, they both started tearing away any remaining clothing that stood in there way, before they crashed back into each other. Her lips seemed to be everywhere at once, on his cheek, his neck, his collarbone… and he wondered why he ever thought that he would get used to her touch.

 

He had gotten so used to Marcus stopping by to check on them, that it weirded him out when someone else showed up. He had heard Marcus call this guy Pike a while back, but Bellamy hadn’t gotten to talk to him yet.

It wasn’t until the third time he showed up at the house that Bellamy actually had a real conversation with him. He seemed a little too preoccupied with doing a survey of the safe house for it to be a good conversation, but Bellamy didn’t really care. He was more anxious about how Clarke was doing in her therapy session.

But, the fourth time Charles Pike showed up, it was like all hell broke loose.

“Where are the others?” he shouted at Bellamy and Clarke, and Clarke immediately got up to run up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy asked, jumping up as well.

“There’s been a breach. This location is no longer safe,” he explained, as the agents who had been watching the house came rushing into the living room. Then, Bellamy saw Clarke sprint down the stairs with the others, and he could feel himself start to panic.

Clarke held his hand tightly as they settled into the van. He snaked his arm around her, holding her as close as he possibly could. His heart was pounding, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He noticed that Roan was holding onto Echo… in a way that looked a little too sincere based on how the two of them talked about each other.

They rode in silence, and Bellamy just kept his eyes on Clarke. It was too dark outside to see anything anyway.

“I would need a room where I could paint,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy blinked a few times in confusion.

“What?” he replied.

“In our house. I’d need a room to paint,” Clarke said, and Bellamy closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers. “Maybe that room would have a bunch of bookshelves so you can read in the same room I paint,” Clarke kept going, as Bellamy ran his fingers through her hair. He could hear Murphy groaning on the other side of Clarke, but he didn’t care. Her voice was the only thing keeping him calm.

“What the—” was all he heard out of the man driving the van before Bellamy felt himself being jerked toward the window. He gripped even tighter around Clarke, burying his face into her shoulder, and everything started going blurry. He felt like he was being thrown around, but couldn’t hear anything over the loud, repetitive clanging sound.

For a moment, he might have been unconscious, or maybe he just clenched his eyes shut for too long. But, as the blur started to fade, Bellamy started to feel aches throughout his body. He swears he could taste blood in his mouth.

He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn’t stay open long enough. His arms were still around Clarke, and he could feel her breathing. He could faintly make out Murphy, who didn’t look okay. None of them looked okay.

He tried to lift up Clarke’s head, but she looked like she was asleep. And, being asleep sounded so nice right now, so Bellamy gave in and let his eyes slam shut.

 

Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open, and he felt like he had been in this place before. He slowly lifted his head, realizing that he was in a hospital.

“What happened?” Bellamy whispered, looking around the room, but it was too blurry. He could see a person standing at the edge of the bed, but it was too blurry to recognize who this person was.

“The van was run off the road. You’re lucky to be alive,” the man said, and Bellamy vaguely recognized the voice.

“Clarke?”

“Bellamy, we need to talk,” he said, and Bellamy realized it was Marcus Kane. “Clarke and Roan are gone.”

“No!” Bellamy shouted, as he tried to push himself out of bed. Clarke wasn’t gone. This was a mistake or a bad dream. She was fine. They were going to have a house. And a dog. And she hadn’t met Octavia or Miller yet.

But, he immediately felt dizzy, and felt something touch him as he was lowered back into the bed.

“I don’t mean they’re dead. I mean they literally were not there when we got to the wreck,” Marcus explained, and Bellamy felt like he was going to throw up.

“Someone took her?” Bellamy asked, as the tears poured down his face.

“We think so. You, Murphy, and Echo all survived. The driver didn’t. And Clarke and Roan were nowhere to be found. And, the other vehicle was gone too,” Marcus explained, and Bellamy shakily grabbed onto his arm, needing something to hold onto.

“Cage,” Bellamy whispered, shaking his head. He was going to kill him.

“Not Cage. We got him in our custody just a few hours before the wreck,” Marcus said, and Bellamy’s eyes widened in fear.

If Cage didn’t take Clarke, who did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, come after me. I know ya'll have thoughts now.


	15. Baldur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this one done earlier than expected. I guess that's what happens when you get another fever and are banished to your room all morning. This is one of the longer chapters in this fic. 
> 
> I'm thinking this fic is going to end up being around 18 chapters in total, but don't hold me to that. It's been a while since I've done a POV shifting story, and switching back and forth is gonna be a little tricky for me in the next two chapters, but I think I've figured it out and it'll stick to just being two chapters. But, we'll see. Anyway, I will have this entire fic done before Halloween, because I have a new job starting in November. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for all the feedback. I promise I'm not keeping Bellarke apart for too long... certainly not 2,199 days *looks directly at camera*

“I’ve got you, Clarke,” she heard a woman’s voice say. She could vaguely feel someone carrying her, but everything was too blurry when she opened her eyes.

“Where is Bellamy?” Clarke whispered. He was right there with her. She remembered that. She tried to open her eyes again, but it only made everything hurt more. So, she slammed them shut, and drifted off.

She woke up again, and this time was quieter. There was no loud clanging noise in her ears. Her body didn’t ache as much.

When her eyes fluttered open, everything was too bright, too white. She tried to sit up, but pain bolted through her shoulder.

“Oh, be careful,” the woman said, and Clarke felt her hands on her. She narrowed her eyes at the woman, whose brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had large glasses on, and she looked like a doctor.

“What happened to me?” Clarke whispered, looking up at her in confusion.

“You were in a nasty wreck. You have a couple of scrapes that I’m treating, and your shoulder is badly hurt. Luckily, something must have covered you during the accident because you don’t have as many cuts as Roan did,” she explained, and Clarke swallowed when she remembered that Bellamy was who was keeping her covered when the van went off the road.

“Roan is here? What about everyone else? Where is Bellamy?” she asked, as the woman helped her sit up.

“Roan is here, and he is okay. I don’t know about the others. I’m only treating you two,” she explained.

“I need to go find Bellamy,” Clarke muttered, trying to push herself off the bed she was sitting on. But, the woman held her down, before she began dabbing at Clarke’s hand with a cloth.

“I’m sure he’s fine. We need to take care of you first,” she replied, and Clarke glanced down at the woman. There was something so familiar about her, it was eerie.

“Have we met before?” Clarke asked, hearing a vague shuffling noise behind her. But, she kept her eyes on the woman who was treating her.

“Yes, we have,” she replied with a smile, and Clarke felt relieved. She could be one of her mom’s doctor friends that Clarke was having a hard time placing.

She applied a bandage to Clarke’s hand, while Clarke surveyed the room. This didn’t look like a hospital… but, then again, the FBI might not have taken them to a hospital since they were all technically missing. She was still anxious about Bellamy and the others, but another doctor could be tending to them right now. Bellamy was fine. He had to be.

“What’s your name?” Clarke asked her, turning back to look at her as she pulled off her gloves. The woman glanced behind Clarke, nodding slightly, and Clarke felt like she was missing something.

“My name is Becca,” she replied, and Clarke swears her heart stopped beating.

She tried to get up, but all the sudden, she felt a sharp prick of pain on her other arm. She whipped her head around, seeing her assistant putting a syringe in her arm.

Then, she felt Becca’s hands on her face, while the assistant held Clarke still. “I’ve got you, Clarke,” Becca reassured, and Clarke’s blood went cold, remembering the last time someone said those words to her. It was what Cage Wallace said right after he drugged her.

Clarke tried to pull away, but she could already feel herself growing weaker. She could feel the tears pouring out her eyes, as Becca stared right back at her.

“Everything is fine. You’re safe now,” was the last thing she heard before the darkness took over.

 

When Clarke woke up, she heard silence… which never happened. Recently, she had been waking up to Bellamy’s soft snoring or the sound of Echo accidentally shutting Roan’s door too hard. In the cells, she’d wake up to Echo’s screaming or Murphy getting bored and deciding to yell at Clarke until she woke up. Even back home, she’d wake up to a loud alarm clock or her mom pounding on her door saying she’s wasting a perfectly good morning.

But, Clarke woke up to silence. It was the loneliest way she had ever woken up.

As she sat up, pain shot through her shoulder again, and she was suddenly reminded of that horrible accident. Then, she remembered Becca.

And, Clarke slammed back downwards, her eyes slamming shut as it became harder and harder for her to breathe. She put her left hand over her head, and forced herself to take a deep breath.

Clarke had gotten so used to Bellamy soothing her that she had forgotten how to calm herself down. She took another deep breath, going through all the different ways Bellamy would calm her down.

Ultimately, Clarke decided to tell herself a story. Her mind drifted back to the day in her cell when she told Bellamy about all the Marvel movies that had come out while he had been in there, not knowing that he had _opinions_ on Thor.

_“Thor isn’t the golden child that those dumb movies make him out to be,” Bellamy muttered, and Clarke started chuckling. “What? He wasn’t. His brother Baldur was the great one.”_

_“Then why isn’t there a movie about him?” Clarke teased, and Bellamy let out a loud groan. She slid closer to the wall, and she could hear Murphy groan from his cell, since they were probably keeping him awake._

_“Because he got murdered,” Bellamy replied, sounding annoyed._

_“Couldn’t be that great then, huh?” Clarke joked, and she heard Bellamy’s bed creak, and she knew he was sitting up, so he could go on a long rant. So, she got comfortable and bit her lip in anticipation._

_“Okay, listen. He was an awesome god. Literally everyone loved him except Loki.”_

_“Sounds about right.”_

_“Shut up,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke could only imagine how ramped up he was. She giggled to herself, pushing her ear as close to the corner as she could. “So, Odin found out that his favorite son was going to die. So, his wife Frigg, literally went to everything in existence and made them all vow not to kill Baldur. I’m talking like she went up to inanimate objects like swords and made them vow never to kill Baldur.”_

_“This is literally the most ridiculous story you’ve ever told me,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy chuckled lightly._

_“No, it gets better. So, the other gods thought it was so fucking funny that nothing would kill Baldur. They’d literally throw sticks at him, and the sticks with thrust themselves away from Baldur so they wouldn’t hurt him. It became a whole big sport that everyone participated in.”_

_“Why do I feel like Loki is gonna mess this up?” Clarke teased._

_“Because literally any Norse mythology story has Loki fucking everything up. So, Loki was jealous of his perfect brother getting all this attention. Out of nothing but pettiness, he went up to his mom and was like so nothing can kill him? And she is like everything but mistletoe, but mistletoe is harmless so I’m not gonna worry about it.”_

_“Let me guess, she should have worried about it.”_

_“She should have worried about it!” Bellamy said excitedly, and Clarke wished she could just see his excitement. She could hear so much love and warmth in his voice as he told these stories… she wanted to see it too. “So, he gets some mistletoe and brings it to one of the gods, one who was blind and therefore left out of the fun game of throwing shit at Baldur. Loki put mistletoe in the god’s hand, and just helped him throw it in the direction of Baldur, without telling the god that he was holding onto the one thing that could kill Baldur.”_

_“Loki is a dick,” Clarke remarked._

_“Such a dick,” Bellamy muttered. “And, the mistletoe pierced right through Baldur, killing him instantly. And then, there’s a whole thing where they try to bring him back. But the Norse version of Hades was actually Loki’s daughter, so that didn’t really work out. She said they had to get every living thing to weep for Baldur and then she’d let him live again. And they got like every living thing to do it except for one giantess, which was actually just Loki in disguise.”_

_“So, moral of the story is that Loki is a dick?”_

_“Yes, Loki is always a dick. And, I don’t know, don’t make the assumption that something that appears harmless actually is. That’s the most I can make out of Baldur’s death.”_

She almost started laughing at the memory as she retold the story to herself. She still wasn’t sold on Baldur being the perfect god. Thor might not be perfect, but he didn’t get killed by mistletoe.

After a few more deep breaths, Clarke struggled and pushed herself up again. She glanced around the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

The first thing she was struck by was how bright the room was. The floor was a pale white, and her bed sheets were a bright white as well. There were a few blankets on the bed, which felt almost out of place.

Clarke whipped her head around, seeing a clear wall, a lot like the ones in her old cell. On the other side of her wall, she saw what looked like someone’s bedroom, if people had bedrooms where everything was white. Whoever was in there was in bed, all curled up under the covers. They had dark hair, but Clarke didn’t like how small this person looked. Almost like it as a child.

She sucked in a breath, before turning to observe the other side of the room she was in. There was another room next to hers, but she knew the occupant.

“Roan,” Clarke whispered, as she darted across the room to the wall. She started hitting the wall, trying to wake him up, but he didn’t budge.

She let out a huff, turning back around. The other two walls didn’t seem to border any rooms. One looked like it bordered a hallway, but Clarke couldn’t see much else. The hallway was too dark, too grim for her to be able to see much.

Clarke looked around the room, having flashbacks to her cell. This was much nicer than that place, though. She had a lot more space, for starters. Her bed looked genuinely comfortable. Her toilet was somewhat private, which was a huge relief. Then, Clarke spotted a stack of books. She started walking over to a table, that had a few interesting looking novels on there, along with a sketchpad and colored pencils.

Clarke looked over at the neighboring rooms, seeing that Roan had some books too, and the other cell had dolls.

“Roan, I need you to wake up,” Clarke whispered, as she moved closer to the wall. She wasn’t even sure if he would be able to hear her. All she heard right now was silence. She couldn’t even hear breathing from either side of her.

She slid down against the wall, landing on the ground as she threw her arms around her knees and buried her face. But, no tears came out. Just an angry groan.

She was supposed to be safe. She was promised she would be safe this time. She had been drugged, abducted, drained of blood. She had to lure Roan to his death, to have her head bashed into a table, and to be on the brink of death and still hold on. She had to break out of a truck, to run for her life, to kill a man.

Clarke earned being safe. And, here she was. Trapped in another cage.

“You’re like me, aren’t you?” she heard a voice say, and her head snapped up, seeing a young girl rubbing her eyes as she got out of bed.

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, as she pushed herself up slowly, not wanting to startle the girl.

“Lexa called me a natblida, because my blood was black instead of red,” the girl whispered, as Clarke moved toward the wall they shared.

“Who is Lexa?”

“My friend. She used to sleep in your room,” she explained, and Clarke felt a familiar ache in her stomach. A lot like the one she would get when Bellamy would talk about the people who died in her cell.

“What about the other room?” Clarke asked, gesturing back toward Roan.

“Luna. They both took care of me,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. Clarke almost asked her what happened to them… but, she already had her answer. And this girl was too young to have gone through losing them. So, Clarke didn’t ask.

“My name is Clarke,” she decided to say, and the girl’s eyes flickered back up to meet Clarke’s.

“I’m Madi. Do you know him?” she asked, gesturing toward Roan.

“Yeah, that’s my friend Roan,” Clarke explained, and the girl nodded slightly. Clarke had a million questions for this girl. She already figured out that she was there for her nightblood. Seeing Becca was a dead giveaway. But, she knew this was probably going to be different than being captured by Cage. For one, Becca didn’t take all of them.

Clarke bit her lip, thinking that over. She must have orchestrated that wreck somehow… or just gotten really lucky. Clarke and Roan were such strategic choices out of the five of them. This couldn’t have been random. But, it probably meant that Bellamy, Murphy, and Echo were fine. Roan seemed to be okay, and he was on the side of the car that got hit. Bellamy definitely would have survived, and Echo and Murphy probably did too. She let out a relieved sigh, resting her head on the clear wall. Bellamy was safe. She could live with whatever happened to her, as long as it meant Bellamy was safe.

“So, what kind of stuff happens here?” Clarke asked vaguely, scared that adding in any details might scare the girl more than she already had been.

“Um, usually, we just hang out in here all day. I’ve been alone for a while, though, so it’s been boring,” Madi explained, and Clarke felt like she was going to throw up. She had no idea how long this kid had been trapped here, but she was too young for this kind of horror. And, she had been alone in here… she could have lost her mind. All Clarke wanted to do was hold this poor girl, but she couldn’t. “I don’t really get to leave much. But, you guys probably will. To help Becca.”

“And how are we going to help Becca?”

“I don’t know. This gas thing starts in your room and she’ll come get you,” Madi said, and Clarke’s eyes flickered up, trying to figure out where the gas came from. This set up was much more sophisticated than Cage’s. But, she could spot a circular hole in the ceiling that looked like gas could come through. She also noticed small holes in her walls, holes that she would have to stand up on her bed to reach.

Then, Clarke heard Roan start to groan. Her head whipped around as she ran to the other wall. Roan was glancing around at the set up with a horrified look on his face. Then, his eyes locked with Clarke’s, and Clarke’s eyes threatened tears.

“I am so sorry, Roan,” Clarke whispered, but he waved her off, as he moved to stand up. He looked horrible, with bandages all over his face and arms, probably from the accident.

“Where is Echo?” Roan asked, as he peered around Clarke to glance at Madi with confusion.

“The others aren’t here. I think Becca just took us,” Clarke explained, and Roan bit down hard on his lip, and Clarke could tell he was trying his best not to freak out. She wasn’t sure if it was just because of Madi or because he had already gone through this all before at Cage’s.

“So, they could all be safe?” Roan asked, and Clarke nodded, noticing how relieved Roan looked as he sighed.

“Oh good, you’re both up,” she heard Becca say, and Clarke turned to look at her as she walked up to them in the dim hallway. She was giving both of them once overs, almost detached and observant in nature.

“What is going on here?” Clarke snapped, darting across her cell to the wall closest to the hallway.

“Is your room not okay?” Becca asked, gazing directly into Clarke’s eyes as she stepped toward Clarke.

“Why am I here?” Clarke growled, and Becca pressed her lips together, before calmly walking over toward Madi.

“How are you today?” Becca asked her with a terrifying smile.

“Fine,” Madi replied, before glancing back at Clarke with wide eyes.

“Maybe you can come back and help me today instead of Clarke,” Becca said, before glancing back at Clarke.

Clarke sprinted to the corner, as close as she could get to Madi and Becca. “No, please,” Clarke snapped, and Becca finally turned away from Madi and started walking back toward Clarke.

“That’s what I thought,” Becca said with a smug grin, before turning around and flipping a switch. Then, Clarke looked up, seeing that she was right about where the gas was coming from. She glanced back at Becca, who was now leaning against the wall, watching her… looking almost bored. Clarke could hear the sounds of Roan and Madi banging on the walls, but Clarke kept her eyes locked with Becca’s.

When the gas finally reached her, Clarke felt a burning she had never felt in Cage’s Hell. Clarke fell to her knees, bracing her hands on the outer wall. Becca was not the kind of devil Clarke was used to.

 

Clarke woke up restrained. She tried to break herself free, but it was no use. Maybe if her shoulder was better.

“Do you have any allergies?” she heard Becca ask, and Clarke’s head popped up to glare at her. Becca tilted her head, waiting for Clarke’s answer.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Clarke spat, and Becca started jotting that down. Clarke glanced around, wondering where all her notes were in this office. It was pristine, nothing like Cage’s or Lorelei’s.

“Good. I didn’t think so, but my files are old. I just don’t want you having an allergic reaction to your meals,” Becca noted, before flipping to another page. Clarke glanced down at her arm, noticing a bandage that wasn’t there earlier. Becca must have already taken a sample or two. “Now, from what I can tell, you’ve done a good deal of recovering from Cage’s treatments.”

“I guess you’re not talking about my emotional state,” Clarke joked, and Becca sighed.

 “You’re starting to gain back some of the weight you lost, which is good,” Becca finally said, ignoring Clarke’s comment.

“What are you doing with me?” Clarke asked, too exhausted to even think about how creepily unattached Becca was being.

“Well, if you must know, you, Madi, and Roan are my last three nightbloods,” Becca replied, and Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion.

“What about the others?” Clarke asked, and Becca rolled her eyes.

“Those aren’t my nightbloods. Cage tried his best to replicate my work on your friends, but Lorelei showed me the data. All he really did was the equivalent of what I did to my first nightblood, and that one didn’t even make it through one of my tests,” Becca muttered, shaking her head.

“What are your tests?” Clarke asked shakily.

“Oh, you’ll pass almost all of them. It’s the radiation one that you’re here for. But, I need to get you healthy first.”

“What?” Clarke yelled, and Becca pressed her lips together, looking annoyed.

“Well, I think out of the three of you, one of my versions of nightblood would work. I didn’t get to test it back then, but now I can.”

“Wait, are you going to do this to Madi? She’s just a kid,” Clarke growled.

“Well, Madi is the least likely for it to work. But, if both you and Roan don’t survive the test, I’ll have to test her. And, if she fails, I’ve got to start over,” Becca explained casually, and Clarke felt her breathing start to quicken. She couldn’t be hearing this right. This couldn’t be happening. She always knew that Cage would eventually kill her, but he never blatantly explained how he would do it. Meanwhile, Becca just laid it out as if Clarke was just supposed to accept it.

“What is this even going to prove?” Clarke snapped, as Becca stood up, picking up a syringe from the prep station.

“If we figure this out, countless lives could be saved, Clarke. If you don’t survive, you’ll die protecting others. There’s honor in that,” Becca replied as she stepped closer to Clarke. “Now, what I’m about to do to you is going to be very painful. Would you prefer to stay awake or do you want me to knock you out?” she asked coldly.

“Knock me out,” Clarke murmured as the tears flowed down her cheeks. Then, she felt the prick in her arm again, and she was lulled back into the darkness.

 

She woke up to the smell of pancakes. Clarke slowly sat up, seeing a tray on the ground by the door of her new cell. Clarke glanced around, seeing that Roan and Madi had similar trays that were now empty. Clarke grumbled as she got out of bed, her arm shooting in pain as she reached to pick up the tray.

“How bad was it?” Madi asked, as Clarke dropped the tray on her bed. She glanced over at Madi’s cell, seeing that Madi had pushed her bed up to the wall that Clarke shared with her. She blinked a few times, having a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Not bad. She just wanted to talk,” Clarke replied, leaving out whatever happened to her while she was unconscious. “Did you and Roan talk while I was gone?”

“He doesn’t talk much,” Madi mumbled, resting her head against the wall. Clarke realized there were no utensils on the tray. She let out a sigh, reminding herself that she should be grateful for actual food this time, regardless of how she had to eat it with her hands.

“Well, consider yourself lucky. He can be kind of mean when he does talk,” Clarke replied with a smirk, and she immediately heard a scoff from Roan’s direction.

 

That night, Clarke stayed up talking with Madi. She told her all about Bellamy and the others, about how they were her family. Madi never mentioned her own family, which Clarke found worrisome, but she decided not to push for more answers.

As Madi got sleepy, Clarke transitioned into telling her some of the stories that Bellamy had told her over the past year. She jumped immediately to Bellamy’s modified princess stories, the ones that he adjusted just enough for him to feel comfortable with telling them to Octavia.

As soon as Madi fell asleep, Clarke heard a knock from the other side of her cell. She whipped her head around, seeing Roan gesture for her to come close.

“What is the plan?” Roan asked.

Clarke blinked a few times, not sure if she heard him correctly. “Plan? There is no plan, Roan. Either the others find us, or we all die here. Becca isn’t fucking around,” Clarke whispered, bracing her hands on the wall.

“That can’t be all we can do,” Roan snapped, and Clarke let out a groan.

“We escaped Cage just by pure luck,” Clarke replied.

“No, we escaped Cage because you got smart and found a way to get a message out. And, when he moved us, you figured out how to get us untied,” Roan reminded her, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head.

“Becca is smarter than Cage. I got away with that stuff because Cage underestimated me,” Clarke muttered.

“Come on, Clarke. I can’t just accept that this is where I’m going to die,” Roan growled, and Clarke jumped, surprised by his harsh tone.

“Well, accept it. Find peace in the fact that the other three will probably get to live out their lives happily, and that Becca will probably give us a quicker death than Cage would have,” Clarke snapped, as she stormed toward her bed.

 

The next few days went like this. Becca would take turns bringing her and Roan in, while Madi stayed safely in her cell. Neither one of them felt like Becca was doing anything too harsh to them while they were unconscious. But, that was all she and Roan could discuss civilly before Roan would start yelling at Clarke about being trapped in there.

She felt a pang of guilt, being reminded all over again that she was the reason Roan got trapped in this horrible world. And, all Roan wanted to do was make ridiculous escape plans.

And, Clarke had to tell him every time that it was pointless. They didn’t have enough time on their side to escape. Even if they did escape, Becca would keep coming after them. They were going to be on the run for the rest of their lives.

It wasn’t like Clarke and Roan could go back to their normal lives. They wouldn’t even be able to find Bellamy, Echo, and Murphy without endangering them. Becca had no limits on what she would do to get them there. At least if Roan and Clarke died in here, the others would stay safe.

Clarke tried to stay as focused on Madi as possible, telling her stories every night as she started to get sleepy.

“Can you tell me the Cassandra one again?” Madi asked, jumping on her bed slightly.

“I just told you that one like an hour ago,” Clarke chuckled, resting her head on the wall.

“I’ve got a story you haven’t heard before, Madi,” Roan said, and Clarke jerked her head to look in his direction. He looked calmer than he had in days, as he stood close to Clarke’s cell.

“Are his stories any good?” Madi asked Clarke.

“I have no idea,” Clarke replied, keeping her eyes fixed on Roan.

“It’s a story about the best friend I’ve ever had,” Roan said, raising his eyebrow at Madi.

“Sorry, Clarke. His is a story that we know actually happened,” Madi said, and Clarke sighed as she propped herself up against the wall.

“So, my best friend was not always my best friend. She actually did something kind of not great at first. In fact, I kind of hated her,” Roan explained, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he even has real friends. Every time he talked about his life before the cells, it seemed like his friends were more superficial in nature. “You see, she tricked me,” Roan said, his eyes locking with Clarke’s.

“How did she trick you? You don’t seem dumb,” Madi said, and Clarke tensed up, not sure where Roan was going with this.

“I underestimated her. She seemed completely harmless. But, she was actually the sneakiest person I’ve ever met. But, it wasn’t her fault that she tricked me. She had to. She did it to protect someone she loved,” Roan explained, and Clarke glanced back at Madi who wasn’t really buying the story. But, Clarke knew Roan wasn’t telling this story for to Madi. “You see, there was this horrible man who made her trick me. But, she didn’t just trick me. She found a clever way to call for help. She stole my phone and reached out to everyone I knew, telling them about what was about to happen.”

“Did that save you guys?” Madi asked, and Clarke bit her lip.

“Not immediately. And I was so angry with her for tricking me, even after I learned why she did it. But, she never stopped trying to help me,” Roan continued, before looking down at the ground. “The bad guy of this story must have found out that people were looking for him, which only happened because of what she did, and he got a little distracted, giving us the perfect opportunity to escape.”

“Was this bad guy like Becca?”

“Yes,” Roan sighed, bracing an arm above his head on the wall, looking directly at Clarke. “And, our escape wasn’t easy. She and I had the hardest time running. She was falling apart, but she kept trying to stay together. Then, one of the bad guy’s friends found us. And he was going to take me.”

“Roan, stop,” Clarke pleaded, feeling the tears building up in her eyes.

“Make me stop, Clarke,” Roan snapped, his eyes defiantly glaring back at her. Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. “At this point, she had already done enough to make up for what she did to me. But, she still felt guilty. I think she still does. But, when that horrible monster took me, she saved me.”

“How?” Madi asked, and Clarke had flashes to how shakily she held that rifle in her hands.

“She snuck out a window quietly, and he could have spotted her. He could have killed her if he had seen her. But, she killed him first, and I got to live. That’s when she became my best friend,” Roan replied, glancing at Madi with an almost tender expression on his face.

“What happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Roan replied, before glancing back at Clarke, and she could see his eyes threaten tears.

“Roan, that’s enough,” Clarke growled as she jumped up and met him over by his wall.

“My entire life has been me being abandoned, Clarke. And when Emerson came for me, I had no hope that anyone would save me, because no one ever has. But, you did!” he yelled, pounding his fist on the wall angrily.

“That was different than this. I can’t get to you this time,” Clarke replied, tears pouring down her cold cheeks.

“Bullshit. I know about the twenty-three, Clarke. Echo told me,” Roan snapped.

“What?”

“Twenty-three different ways to escape your old cell. That’s how many escape plans you came up with while we were in the safe house,” Roan replied, his eyes defiantly glaring back into Clarke’s.

“They won’t work here,” Clarke whispered, resting her head on the wall.

“Why not?”

“Because Becca is smarter than Cage. Those plans would have worked on Cage because he underestimated us. But, Becca knows us. She knows we escaped Cage. She knows that we’re smarter than people give us credit for. She’ll figure out what I’m doing before I can even do a damn thing, and she could take it out on someone else,” Clarke whispered, gesturing her head back toward Madi.

“I have been cast into Hell with you twice now. I know all too well that not many people can outsmart you.”

“Stop.”

“Because you are the master of appearing harmless when you are anything but. I know that one of those plans could have worked. You just need to accept that this fight isn’t over for you,” Roan shouted, and Clarke blinked a few times, his words hitting her too hard.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Clarke heard Madi shuffle slightly. Clarke could only imagine how startled she was at this fight between Clarke and Roan, and she probably had a thousand questions that Clarke would never want to hear come out of a little girl. She was too innocent for this life.

“Wait, what did you just say to me?” Clarke asked, glancing up at Roan with furrowed brows.

“You mean my great speech about you not giving up?” he asked with a mocking tone.

“No, not that,” Clarke replied.

“Uh, you’re good at coming off as totally harmless and tricking people, your plans could still work, stop being an idiot,” Roan started listing as Clarke waved him to be quiet.

Clarke did a quick survey of her cell, before glancing around Madi’s. Then, Clarke’s eyes met Madi’s wide brown ones. Madi wasn’t as traumatized by her argument with Roan as Clarke had feared. In fact, she seemed fascinated.

Clarke paced for a moment in the middle of her cell, occasionally stealing glances back at Madi. She could hear Roan start to get impatient, but Clarke didn’t care. She was thinking.

“Madi, do you trust me?” Clarke asked, and Madi nodded enthusiastically. Then, Clarke turned to face Roan. “I think I know how to get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact that absolutely no one asked for: the story of Baldur was one I was constantly told as a kid. It made me low key terrified of mistletoe, which made Christmas a time of constant terror for me. Also, how dare people kiss under the thing that killed Baldur?


	16. Let Her Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. I think I'm sticking to the 18 chapter cap. But, don't you guys worry. I've got other fics planned for when this one is done. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments! It's giving me so much life, especially since I'm rocking that fever life right now and feel a little bit like a zombie. Anyway, you guys are great, never change, I hope you all have a wonderful day.

The nurses had drugged him again, Bellamy realized as he groggily opened his eyes. He looked at the clock beside him, noting that he had now been in this hospital bed for at least a day, if not two.

“Careful,” he heard a familiar voice warn.

“He’s just gonna try to get out again,” another voice said, this one a woman’s. Bellamy turned, seeing Murphy and Echo lying in their own hospital beds beside him.

“Why aren’t you guys trying to get out?” Bellamy asked as he tried to push himself up, but he was restrained by something… almost like he was back with Cage.

“Because we’ve watched your dumb ass try to do it three times and fail,” Echo retorted, and Bellamy opened his mouth to argue with her.

“Can you just save the dramatics this time? We’re stuck here until we get cleared,” Murphy snapped, and Bellamy shut his mouth. He vaguely remembered those times he tried to get up. He remembered nurses and doctors rushing in. He remembered knocking out. “Like, if you start yelling again, they’re just gonna come back in and knock you out. It’ll do you more good to just sit there and think for half a second.”

“Clarke and Roan are gone,” Bellamy growled, and Echo and Murphy exchanged a grim look. “We have to go find them!”

“And how would the three of us do that? It’s not Cage, so we don’t have a fucking clue what to do,” Echo snapped, and Bellamy wanted to scream. But, he restrained himself, because Murphy was right. It wouldn’t do him any good to be knocked out again. He might as well stay conscious so that he can plan.

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, hearing muffled chatter from outside their room. Bellamy closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

Clarke and Roan being gone didn’t have to mean what he thought it meant. After all, he knew they weren’t dead… yet.

That thought chilled Bellamy as his eyes fluttered back open. He couldn’t think about Clarke dying. If he let his mind go there, he would be lost… useless… unable to help Clarke. No, she was alive. And, she was probably fighting like hell to get back to him. He had to believe that.

Bellamy vaguely remembered Marcus being rattled when he first woke up, but Bellamy didn’t remember seeing him since. He decided that was a good thing. It meant that Marcus was interrogating Cage or out there finding Clarke. Marcus found them before. He could do it again.

“Mr. Murphy, how are you feeling?” Bellamy heard someone say. Bellamy lifted his head to see Charles Pike standing in front of Murphy’s hospital bed.

“Like I almost died… again,” Murphy muttered, and Pike gave him a sympathetic pat on his foot, before moving toward Echo’s bed.

“And, Echo?” Pike continued, tilting his head.

“Well, I imagine that Roan took the brunt of my hit, so physically I’m fine. I’d be better if you found Clarke and Roan, though,” Echo snapped, and Pike clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“We are doing everything we can to find them. We have several leads and we’ve gotten some information out of Cage Wallace that we believe will be useful in bringing them home safe,” Pike explained as diplomatically as possible.

“When do we get out of here?” Bellamy snapped, anxious about what Pike was purposefully keeping from them.

“As soon as the doctors clear you all,” Pike said with a smile, but that did little to comfort Bellamy. He had no idea what he was supposed to do once they were out of the hospital. Would they be taken to another safe house? Would Bellamy be forced to just sit around and wait for someone to save Clarke?

He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just do nothing. There had to be something he could do to get her back from whatever Hell she had been dragged into this time.

“It seems that the threat to you three has been neutralized,” Pike explained.

“Uh, our two friends got kidnapped after a truck ran us off the road. Pretty sure we’re still in danger,” Murphy muttered, as Pike leaned against the wall, pressing his lips together.

“Cage Wallace was the one who was hunting you guys down. Lorelei Tsing is dead, and so is Carl Emerson. The threat to the three of you specifically is gone,” Pike replied, with a bit of hesitation in his voice. “You see, whoever took your friends didn’t bother to take all of you. We have some theories as to why that is. But, they had the means to take you all and chose not to. So, none of you are potential targets.”

“What does that mean for us?” Echo asked.

“That we can send you three home,” Pike answered, and Bellamy’s mind flashed to Octavia. He could go see her, he could hug her and hear all about school and learn about everything he missed…

“I could see Emori again,” he heard Murphy whisper as soon as Pike walked out of the room. Bellamy glanced over at Murphy whose eyes were full of tears, and Bellamy realized his were too.

“We can’t all just get to go free,” Echo snapped, and Bellamy nodded as his chest ached. None of them were going home. Not yet. Not until all of them could go home. “We need to find Roan and Clarke.”

“And how would we even find them?” Murphy snapped.

“We’ll talk to Marcus. He’s just as eager to get Clarke and Roan back. We can trust him,” Bellamy explained, and Murphy rolled his eyes as he laid back down in his bed.

 

As far as Bellamy could tell, none of them had serious enough injuries that would require their constant presence in a hospital. Bellamy probably had a concussion, and he was pretty sure that Murphy did too. But, Echo’s injuries were just cuts from what he could tell. All things considered, they got pretty damn lucky.

But, not one of them was cleared by the doctors. And Bellamy could sense something was off.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen Marcus Kane in days.

“Oh, he got dismissed from this case. Too personal for him to stay professional,” Pike explained after Bellamy asked, and Bellamy felt like he was going to throw up.

“But, is there any way I could talk to him? I just feel more comfortable around him,” Bellamy tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t set off any alarms in Pike’s head.

“I’ll try to see what I can do,” Pike replied with an almost annoyed expression, before moving back towards Murphy to ask him some questions.

Bellamy glanced over at Echo, who looked just as untrusting as Bellamy felt. There was something off about what was happening here. They had no problem with Kane helping them for this long. Clarke being missing again shouldn’t be enough to make a difference.

 

The next day, Bellamy wasn’t restrained anymore. He tried to step out of the room, but two armed FBI agents prevented him from leaving.

Echo had a similar incident. Murphy was still too injured to get out of bed.

Bellamy and Echo kept their suspicions quiet though. It was unspoken but understood that the two of them trusted no one at this point. Pike told them absolutely nothing, said they could leave, yet no one was actually letting them leave.

“I got my orders from Pike himself. Should I give him a call?” he heard a woman say outside the room.

“The three of them are about to move, ma’am.”

“I know. That’s what I have to prep them for,” the woman growled in response. Bellamy swallowed, hearing shuffling outside the door.

“Echo, what do they mean we’re about to move?” Bellamy whispered, and Echo’s eyes stayed glued to the door.

Then, it opened, and a doctor came in, with a cart of syringes.

“What are you doing to us?” Murphy snapped, jumping up in fear. The woman swallowed, scanning the three of them.

“I’m here to help,” she said cautiously, as she pulled out empty syringes from her pockets and placed them on the cart. Then, she started taking the original ones and stuffing them into her pockets.

“Who are you?” Bellamy asked, as he started to push himself out of bed.

“Lay back down. When they come for you guys, you will all pretend to be unconscious. Do not open your eyes for any reason, got it?” she ordered, and Bellamy slowly sat back down, narrowing his eyes at her. “My name is Dr. Abigail Griffin. I think you know my daughter.”

“We can’t trust her,” Echo warned, and Bellamy nodded. This woman could be lying. But, he couldn’t help but see the resemblance between her and Clarke.

“Marcus sent me. Let me explain,” she replied, as she eyed Bellamy closely. “Someone has been leaking information, which is how Roan and Clarke got abducted. Marcus caught on, and was forced out of the case. They,” Abby said, gesturing to the hallway, “have no intention of finding them.”

Bellamy shot a look at Murphy and Echo, who both looked less defiant as Abby spoke. He could tell this was Clarke’s mother. It was in her voice when she said Clarke’s name. And, no matter what horrible things Clarke told Bellamy about her, she was still Clarke’s mother, and she wasn’t going to do anything that would hurt her. So, for the time being, he had to trust her.

“Why are they moving us?” Bellamy asked.

“Not sure,” she whispered, before glancing back at the door. “Marcus isn’t exactly in the know. But, he has a lead on where Clarke and Roan are. Those agents are going to move you onto a van. But, Marcus has a plan to make sure you three never end up wherever they’re taking you.”

“They could be taking us home,” Murphy argued, but even he sounded like he didn’t believe it. It wouldn’t be that simple.

“They aren’t. None of your loved ones have been contacted,” Abby said grimly, and Bellamy sucked in a breath. “So, are the three of you going to pretend to be unconscious or do I actually need to knock you out?”

“I think we’re good,” Echo replied quickly, leaning back in her bed. “Any other helpful hints as to what happens next?”

“Trust Marcus, and no one else,” Abby said, before walking toward the door nervously.

 

Staying perfectly still as they were transported downstairs was harder than Bellamy anticipated. But, no one suspected that they weren’t unconscious, thankfully. Although, the agents could have been gentler when they moved them into the van. Bellamy was still pretty sore from the wreck.

Once the van started moving, Bellamy snuck a glance up at the driver. It was someone he didn’t recognize, which he wasn’t sure was necessarily a bad thing. At least it wasn’t Pike. Bellamy was fairly certain that Pike was in on whatever the hell was going on.

He wasn’t sure how long they were driving, when the van unexpectedly pulled over into a gas station. It was the middle of the night, but Bellamy was careful not to get caught looking out the window.

As soon as the driver was gone, Murphy whispered, “You know, it would have been nice if Clarke’s mom had told us what the plan was.”

“Shut up,” Echo warned, and Bellamy let out a huff. Murphy had a point. But, Abby might not have known much. She just had her job in their escape, and she did it.

The driver was out of the van for a little too long. Too long for a responsible agent to leave the three of them alone in the back.

Bellamy jumped when the door opened again, but forced himself to calm down so he didn’t reveal that he was awake.

“Don’t worry. It’s just me,” Marcus said, and Bellamy’s head whipped up, watching Marcus pull the van out of park.

“What the fuck is going on?” Echo snapped, as she crawled over Murphy to get into the front seat. Bellamy leaned over to help Murphy sit up.

“I think Pike is working with whoever took Clarke and Roan,” Marcus explained, as he hit the gas… hard.

“Are you abducting us?” Bellamy interrupted as he got himself comfortable.

“Technically, yeah, kind of. But, you three were about to disappear and I couldn’t let that happen before we found Clarke and Roan,” Marcus said, sounding kind of breathless. “Anyways, the alleged breach was not really the threat Pike made it out to be, meaning you five could have stayed safely in that safe house. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the wreck happened, and Clarke and Roan got taken, especially since Pike was one of three people who knew where you were going.”

“Who were the other two people who knew?” Murphy asked.

“The dead driver and me,” Marcus explained, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered shut as he processed this. He was right about Pike.

“Wait, did you kill our driver?” Echo asked.

“No. He’s just unconscious in the bathroom. He should be out for another few hours or so, so we get a head start before the FBI figures out that you three are missing.”

“Are we breaking the law?” Bellamy asked.

“If this all goes south, you three will be considered victims. I am the only one technically breaking the law,” Marcus huffed.

“Anyone gonna ask where he’s taking us?” Murphy muttered, leaning his head on the window.

“To Clarke and Roan, right?” Bellamy asked, and Marcus nodded.

“If the FBI can’t find them, how the fuck are we supposed to?” Echo snapped.

“The FBI can’t find them because Pike is covering it up. But, I know something Pike doesn’t,” Marcus said, and Bellamy could see his smirk through the rearview window.

Echo glanced back at Bellamy, raising an eyebrow. Bellamy swallowed, before glancing at Murphy. Murphy seemed uninterested in what was going on, but he also had a pretty major concussion.

“We’re clearly going against your orders by getting them. What are we supposed to do once we get them?” Bellamy asked, and Marcus was silent for a few moments.

“I have a safe place that the five of you can go to. I’ll stay behind and find a way to make it safe for you all to come back… eventually,” he replied, his voice sounding almost strangled as he spoke.

 

After they switched vehicles, Bellamy ended up in the front seat next to Marcus. He could hear Murphy’s soft snoring behind him, and Echo was also fast asleep.

“What is the lead that you have?” Bellamy whispered, and Marcus bit his lip.

“When we first found you guys, I had one of my friends put a tracking device in Clarke. So, I wouldn’t lose her again,” Marcus mumbled, shaking his head slightly. “Whoever took her wouldn’t find it unless they were explicitly looking for it.”

“So, why didn’t you just find her immediately?” Bellamy asked, as Marcus switched lanes.

“Well, she didn’t show up for a while. There was something blocking the signal. And then, for like an hour, she showed up again. It’s been like that every day. Just one hour in the afternoon and then she disappears again,” he explained, looking confused as he said it. “But, I’ve got a general radius that I know she’s in, and I’m hoping we’ll know where she is when we get there.”

Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, his mind immediately wondering what kind of person would take Clarke. His mind immediately imagined someone just like Cage, fearing that Clarke was being held underground again in a cage.

“Where are we going to go when this is all over?” Bellamy asked, changing the subject so he didn’t imagine Clarke getting paler and paler as she struggled to hold on.

“Somewhere that only Clarke knows how to get to. Her dad was going to flee the country before he got sent to prison. He was going to take Clarke too,” Marcus answered, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Jake had a friend nearby, Sinclair. He’ll get you guys any documents or anything else you could need. You’ll be taken care of until everything is safe.”

Bellamy had a thousand questions about Jake and what all Marcus believed as far as that situation was concerned. But, that wasn’t the more pressing issue.

“Will it ever be safe for us? I mean, we thought that getting rid of Cage would mean we were safe. But, there could be lots of people like him.”

“There aren’t many people who know about Becca’s work. And, everyone who knew about Cage’s work seem to be under the impression that the experiments were failures.”

“He turned our blood black. Wasn’t that the goal?” Bellamy asked, almost jerking at the notion that the experiments were failures. They couldn’t be failures. That would mean that all those people were murdered for nothing. Atom, Sterling, Bree, Roma, Wells… all tortured and killed for a failure.

“Abby has a better grasp on this than I do. The goal was to create whatever it was that Clarke and Roan have. She thinks that Cage got some of the formula right, but not enough. Over time, he might have gotten it. But, he didn’t have time, not after Clarke sent that message out,” Marcus explained with a sigh.

“Is Becca still around? Clarke seemed to think so,” Bellamy said.

“She’s been missing for a while. No one has heard from her since her last patient failure.”

“What happened?”

“Abby told me that she was testing a new version of nightblood a few years ago on these two orphans. One of them didn’t make it.”

“But, the other one did?”

“Yeah. Little girl named Madi. But, she was reported missing by her social worker about six months ago,” Marcus muttered shaking his head with a tense jaw.

“What are the odds that is a coincidence?”

“There are no coincidences. That was the first thing I learned when I joined the FBI,” Marcus said sternly, and Bellamy nodded solemnly. “To be honest, I expected to find Madi with you guys when I found you. She might be dead.”

“Do you think Clarke is dead?” Bellamy asked, feeling his own eyes start to water at the thought.

“No. She’s almost died too many times already. It made her stronger. That I’m sure of,” Marcus said so definitively, that Bellamy’s entire body relaxed. He hardly knew Marcus… but, Bellamy knew he could trust him.

 

Bellamy recognized the building immediately as Marcus pulled up. It was a house, similar to the one that Cage had tried to them all to. Any doubt Bellamy had that Clarke was being held in a similar cage flew out the window as he observed the oddly modern house sitting in the middle of nowhere.

“Echo, you and Murphy are going to stay here. If things start to look dangerous, you two get as far away as possible,” Marcus explained, passing the keys to Echo, who shakily took them into her hand. “Ready?” he asked Bellamy, as he put a gun into Bellamy’s hand.

“How much trouble are you going to get into for this?” Bellamy asked him hesitantly.

“A lot, probably. But, it’ll be worth it when you’re all safe and I can expose Pike. Don’t worry about that,” Marcus announced, as they cautiously approached the house.

“You’re putting a lot of trust into a stranger right now,” Bellamy muttered, and Marcus stopped walking and glanced up at Bellamy.

“I saw how you looked at Clarke. It’s a look I’m all too familiar with. You’d do anything to protect her. Just makes sense,” Marcus deadpanned, before continuing his strides toward the house.

Bellamy started to move as well, before he heard something terrifying.

“Becca! Go downstairs now!” some woman shouted from inside the house, and Marcus glanced back at Bellamy with a horrified look on his face. Becca took Clarke.

Then, Marcus sprinted up the door, and started picking the lock quickly, before yanking it open. Bellamy ran after him, following him into the house. It was dimly lit inside, but he could see some offices like the ones that Cage had.

Bellamy stayed close behind Marcus as he tiptoed down the hallway, peering into each room before moving past it.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” he heard that voice again, getting louder as a woman stepped out of a room. Her eyes widened in fear, seeing Marcus and Bellamy both aiming guns in her direction.

“Scream for help and you are dead, understand?” Marcus whispered, and she nodded nervously, her eyes glancing down the hallway. “Who are you?”

“Peri Gordon. Please, I need to get downstairs. It’s an emergency,” she stuttered out. Bellamy peered over her shoulder seeing a room full of computer monitors. Bellamy started stepping toward it, seeing a black and white video feed of three clear cages. And, right in the middle, was his princess.

“She’s _alive_ ,” Bellamy murmured, and he could sense Marcus start to relax. Marcus’s eyes followed Bellamy’s, seeing Clarke and Roan standing side by side in their cells.

“Put your guns down,” Bellamy heard another voice growl, and Bellamy pointed his gun in that direction, seeing a man step out into the hallway, holding two guns in his hands, one pointed at him and another pointed at Marcus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last intense cliffhanger this fic, I promise lol.


	17. Not Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unofficially sponsored by DayQuil, the only thing keeping me from being a total zombie at the moment. 
> 
> One more chapter after this one, and it'll have a Blake sibling reunion and probably a good chunk of Bellarke smut. 
> 
> Anyways, once again, thank you all for all the comments and feedback. It means a lot to me. I get a huge smile on my face whenever I see new comments in my inbox. 
> 
> Now, I'm gonna go take a ten hour nap. See ya'll next update.

Clarke kept pacing in her cell, waiting for Roan or Madi to tell her this was a bad idea. But, neither one of them ever did. She could hear a creak upstairs, and she knew that meant it had to be morning. Becca always came for one of them not too long after the creaking upstairs started.

“It will be fine,” Madi said, and Clarke jerked her head up to look at her. Madi looked so genuinely confident in this plan, and it terrified Clarke.

“If you have any doubts, tell me right now and I’ll work on a different plan,” Clarke said nervously, and Roan let out a huff.

“We’ve been over this already. Madi wants to do it. What is Becca gonna do? Kill us? That’s already gonna happen,” Roan grumbled, and Clarke whipped her head around to glare at him. She had too many conversations with him already about being careful with what he said around Madi. Clarke wanted to preserve whatever innocence Madi had left after being cast into Hell.

“Just tell me when,” Madi said, shrugging on her bed.

Clarke stepped toward the outer wall, and she could hear two different sets of footsteps. That meant that at least her assistant was here today, and maybe Chris too. She glanced back at Roan, wondering what the hell they were going to do once they got upstairs. The two of them could take Peri… but, Chris was a different story.

She rested her head on the wall. Her eyes were aching from being up most of the night. Roan had figured out how to break the legs off his bed, and it was way too much work for Clarke to try to reach the hole at the top of her cell where Roan pushed one of the legs through. It was even more work getting it into Madi’s cell.

Clarke glanced back, seeing the leg tucked securely under her bed, out of sight. They needed to do this now. The longer they waited, the bigger chance that Peri or Chris reviewed the feeds from the previous night and had an idea of what they were doing.

“Now, Madi,” Roan ordered, and on cue, Madi fell to the ground, just like they practiced. Clarke and Roan both ran to the walls closest to Madi and started screaming and pounding on them, just like they had agreed.

It took a few minutes, but then Clarke heard the muffled sound of Peri shouting, “Becca! Go downstairs now!” and Clarke sucked in a nervous breath. She didn’t like this plan. She didn’t like putting Madi in danger. But, Becca wouldn’t fall for it if it was Clarke or Roan who pulled this. Or, she would gas them first before intervening. But, Madi was just a little girl, and there was no way Becca could imagine what Madi had in store for her.

It only took seconds for Clarke to hear Becca sprinting down the stairs, but then Clarke heard more creaking from upstairs. There were more than two people up there, and that thought was almost as terrifying as what would happen if Becca outsmarted them.

“What happened?” Becca shouted, as she frantically typed in the key to Madi’s door.

“’I don’t know. One second ago she was fine,” Roan shouted angrily.

“She started shaking but she stopped. Is she dead?” Clarke said shakily, forcing a few tears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Becca muttered, as she ran into the cell, leaving the door open behind her. She immediately fell to the ground, checking Madi’s vital signs, and looking completely confused. Clarke knew she would do this, and feared that Becca would catch on too quickly. And, when Becca’s head popped up to glare at Clarke, she felt like she would throw up. It was over. It was stupid to think that she could outsmart Becca, who is a literal genius. “Clarke, what’s going on?” Becca growled, her eyes completely fixed on Clarke. Which is how Becca didn’t see it when Madi took the leg from Roan’s bed and slammed it into the back of Becca’s head, throwing her forward.

Madi quickly scrambled to her feet as Becca tried to get herself back up. But, Becca was too disoriented to be quick enough, and Madi made it out of her cell, before slamming the door shut behind her.

“Madi, open this door!” Becca shouted, banging on the door frantically, but Madi was already moving toward Clarke’s door.

“The key is 3172,” Clarke shouted, trying to be louder than the sound of Becca pounding on Madi’s cell walls.

“Chris and Peri are up there. This plan of yours won’t work!” Becca snapped, as Madi pulled Clarke’s door open. Clarke shot Becca a smug look, probably a little too smug for someone who could easily end up in this cell again, before she stepped out and pulled Madi into a grateful hug. “They can see on the monitors that you’re getting out. They’ll be down here any second.”

And, Clarke didn’t hesitate to flip the gas switch for Madi’s cell. She moved to punch the key into Roan’s door, hearing muffled screams from Becca.

“Can’t believe that fucking worked,” Roan muttered, but Clarke was more concerned about the noise coming from upstairs. The floors in this building creaked badly already. But, it was usually pretty spread out in location, probably due to Becca, Chris, and Peri walking from office to office. But, the creaking was all coming from one spot, and was louder than normal.

“There’s someone else here,” Clarke whispered, glancing back at Roan who had an annoyed look on his face.

“Why can’t we ever just catch a lucky break?” Roan grumbled, and Clarke looked back at Becca, who was unconscious on the ground. Someone should have come for her by now. Even if they weren’t watching the feeds, they would find it concerning that Becca didn’t have an update on Madi. Something was wrong here.

“Madi, have you ever seen anything down here that could be used as a weapon?” Clarke asked, figuring that there had to be some precautions down here in case Chris needed to intervene. Cage had several firearms downstairs, according to Echo’s description of the basement layout.

Madi pointed to the wall farthest from the stairs, and Roan stormed over, opening the cabinet against the wall. Then, he let out a sigh, before turning around. He was holding out a gun for Clarke. Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, and he let out a huff.

“In case you need to save my life again,” Roan muttered, and Clarke smirked, taking the handgun from him.

“Okay, Madi, I want you to stay with Roan, understood?” Clarke said, and Madi nodded, glancing back at Roan.

“Clarke, what are you thinking?” Roan asked, stepping toward her with a concerned look in his eye.

“That something is happening upstairs. And, if worst comes to worst, you’re gonna take Madi and run,” Clarke said.

“No, that was not the plan,” Roan growled, grabbing Clarke by her shoulders.

“I owe you, remember?”

“You made up for that, remember?” Roan snapped, his eyes boring into Clarke’s. “And, you’re saving me a second time. So, I’m in your debt.”

“Good. Repay me by making sure Madi gets out of here,” Clarke ordered, before jerking out of his grasp. “And, if anything goes wrong, you run as fast as you can,” Clarke said to Madi who nodded nervously. She glanced back at Roan, who had grabbed a baton from the cabinet, but still looked pissed at Clarke. She would deal with that if she made it out of there alive.

She moved toward the stairs, holding the gun in one hand, and Madi was tugging on her other one. Clarke glanced back again, seeing Roan holding her other hand and glaring at Clarke. If he didn’t like how Clarke planned things, he should have come up with his own plan.

They tiptoed up the stairs, only causing a few creaks.

“Put your guns down,” she heard Chris growl, and Clarke glanced back at Roan with wide eyes. Then, she glanced at Madi, pulling her hand from Madi’s clasp, and gestured for the two of them to stay put. She started moving up the stairs, getting closer to being able to see what was going on.

“Let’s not do something we’re all going to regret,” she heard a familiar voice say, and chills went up Clarke’s arms. What was Marcus doing here? How did he find her?

She took another few steps, and she could see Chris holding two guns in two different directions. When she took another step, she could see Marcus on the far left, and Bellamy a bit to the right, while Peri was up against the wall, opposite Marcus.

She swallowed, relieved that none of them had noticed her creeping up behind Chris. But, she wasn’t sure what she could do. Chris had a gun at both Bellamy and Marcus, and if Clarke took a shot, he could easily pull the triggers in reaction to the noise. More importantly, she wasn’t sure if she could get a clean shot at him from this angle. She needed a way to get a shot off while he wasn’t aiming directly at Marcus or Bellamy.

She slowly moved to her left, staying on the same step, but altering her angle so that neither Bellamy nor Marcus were directly behind Chris. In fact, she couldn’t see Bellamy or Marcus anymore.

“Who are you?” Chris growled.

Clarke turned her head around, before gesturing for Roan to take Madi back down the stairs. He shot her a warning look, but Clarke just glared back at him, refusing to back down on this. So, Roan pulled Madi back around the corner of the stairs, and as soon as he was out of sight, Clarke turned her head back around.

Then, she took a step up on the stairs, not stepping carefully, of course. And, the loud creak was enough to make Chris turn slightly. He probably imagined that it was Becca coming back upstairs. As his eyes widened, but before he could aim a gun at Clarke, she fired a shot right into his chest.

He crashed to the ground, his eyes horrified as he struggled to keep them open. Clarke could feel her hands shaking as she lowered the gun, realizing that she just killed another person.

“Clarke,” she heard Bellamy say, and Clarke’s tear-filled eyes flickered up to meet his. Marcus was still aiming a gun at Peri, who was hyperventilating, but Bellamy lowered his gun as he started darting toward Clarke. She ran up the last few steps before throwing herself at him, his arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure this could really be him. She had hoped that he was okay, but she never imagined seeing him again. It was hard to focus on any one thing. She was too overwhelmed by how much she missed his smell, by his lips frantically peppering kisses all over her face, by how she wasn’t sure if she was just thinking that she loved him over and over or if she was actually repeatedly saying it.

But, he crashed his lips into hers, and the world went white for a moment. It was just Clarke and Bellamy, holding each other like they always did, momentarily forgetting that Clarke could have died here or that Bellamy could have died in the wreck.

It wasn’t until she pulled away that she saw Marcus was tearing up.  He had kept his aim at Peri, but he was watching Clarke and Bellamy’s reunion with interest.

“There are cells downstairs you can put her in,” Clarke said, as she moved over to give Marcus a side hug. “Becca is down there.”

“Where is Roan?” Marcus asked with furrowed brows.

“Roan!” Clarke shouted, and she heard the hesitant steps of Roan and Madi as they made their way up the stairs. The look of relief in Roan’s eyes as he saw Bellamy and Marcus was beautiful.

Clarke moved around to get to Madi, who had a terrified look in her eyes. “Hey, these guys are our friends. Marcus is my step-dad and always protects me. He’ll protect you too. And, I’ve already told you all about Bellamy,” Clarke reassured, and Madi’s eyes flickered behind Clarke, sizing up Bellamy. “You’re safe with us.”

 

Clarke knew that she hadn’t been trapped this time for all that long. But, it still felt like a lifetime, especially when she stepped outside. Madi was glued to her side, looking overwhelmed. Clarke still had no idea how long Madi had been trapped underground before Clarke got there. Bellamy was on the other side of Clarke… he hadn’t let her out of his sight.

“Alright, you all need to get going before I call the authorities,” Marcus announced as they moved toward the car. Clarke saw Roan rush over to the car as Echo and Murphy jumped out, grabbing him in a relieved hug.

“Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Clarke asked, glancing back at Marcus. Then, she saw Marcus shoot Bellamy a look, and Clarke had a bad feeling in her chest.

“Hey, Madi, let’s go get in the car. Clarke will be right behind us,” Bellamy said, and Madi hesitantly went off with him.

“What don’t I know?” Clarke asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I’ve already gone over this with Bellamy as we drove over here, but you all need to run.”

Clarke’s stomach dropped, as she glanced back at the others. She could see Echo whispering something to Roan, and he had a horrified expression that matched Clarke’s own.

“Charles Pike was working with Becca, I think. And, you all need to disappear while all of this gets sorted out. You still remember how to get to your dad’s house, right?” Marcus asked with a grim expression, and Clarke nodded, tearing up slightly. “You all can hide there. I’ll send for you when it’s safe again for you to come home.”

“Just expose Pike and we don’t have to leave in the first place,” Clarke pleaded, shaking her head.

“It’s not that simple. It’s gonna take some time. Becca has to turn on him. I’m in a lot of trouble for what I pulled here today, anyways. So, even if I brought you guys back, I wouldn’t be allowed to help you, and I don’t trust anyone at the FBI right now, not with you,” Marcus replied, putting his hands on Clarke’s shoulders. “Your mom and I will be fine. Now, go take care of yourself and all of them. Sinclair will help you out.”

“But, Murphy can’t go back to Emori and Bell can’t go back to Octavia… this isn’t okay,” Clarke whispered, as Marcus pulled her in for a hug.

“None of it is okay. But, you’ve got a little family to take care of you. You’ll find a way to be okay. I believe in you,” Marcus replied, before pulling away. “Now, get going so you can cross the border before they figure out what I did.”

Clarke nodded, before shakily making her way to the car. Echo tossed her the keys, as Roan helped Madi get into the backseat. She took the driver’s seat, looking behind her once the car door was shut. Roan and Madi were huddled together in the very back, whispering to each other. Echo and Murphy were right behind Clarke. And, Bellamy was right next to her.

She let herself glance back at Marcus one last time, pushing down her tears for later. She had an entire lifetime to cry.

Bellamy’s hand rested on top of Clarke’s as she pulled into drive.

“We’re okay, Clarke. Just breathe for me,” he whispered, and Clarke nodded, taking a deep breath.

 

The first night, Madi fell asleep curled up against Clarke’s side. Clarke knew that Madi understood she could trust everyone else… but, it had to be hard. The girl was young, and hardly even knew Clarke. It couldn’t be easy for her to be thrown into a house full of strangers.

“What do you know about her?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke bit her lip, pushing a few strands of hair out of Madi’s face.

“Not much. She has never mentioned a family. She was with Becca long enough for two other nightbloods to die,” Clarke replied, glancing over her shoulder at Bellamy, who was leaning over to turn off the lamp.

“Marcus mentioned Madi. Said she was an orphan that went missing six months ago,” Bellamy explained, and Clarke’s chest tensed up. This poor girl didn’t have a family to go home to. Then, Clarke felt Bellamy wrap himself around Clarke. Her back was pressed into his warm chest, and Clarke let her eyes flutter shut. She forgot how much she missed this… being held by him. “Madi told me that you would tell her stories to help her fall asleep,” Bellamy whispered, as he pressed a kiss to Clarke’s cheek.

“She pushed her bed up against the wall, next to mine,” Clarke whispered back, smiling slightly. “Just like we did.”

Madi started to shift, pulling herself closer to Clarke. Clarke rested her head on top of Madi’s, feeling Bellamy shift closer too, his hand resting on Clarke’s hip.

“We’re going to be safe this time. I can feel it,” Bellamy reassured, and Clarke nodded. Marcus wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “And, in case I didn’t say it enough today, I love you, so much,” he whispered right in Clarke’s ear, and those words sounded almost too beautiful. Clarke thought she could cry. She thought she would die without ever hearing those words again.

“I love you too.”

 

Sinclair proved to be more helpful than Clarke remembered. It didn’t take long for him to produce new identities for all of them, and he helped keep the house stocked. Clarke let Bellamy do most of the talking with Sinclair, especially since Madi had been extremely anxious since they got to the house.

“Hey, talk to me,” Clarke whispered as she followed Madi into what was supposed to be Clarke’s bedroom all those years ago. It felt like another life all together.

“I’m fine,” Madi mumbled, as she sat down on the bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. Clarke let out a sigh as she went to sit down next to Madi, her hand rubbing Madi’s back.

“I know you’re scared. You don’t know these people, but I do. Remember when Roan told you about the bad place we used to be trapped in?” Clarke asked and Madi nodded hesitantly. “All of those people helped keep me safe in there, just like me and Roan did for you, just like Lexa and Luna did. And, they will help you too. And, we can all be safe here together until it’s safe to go home.”

“I don’t have a home,” Madi replied, her eyes full of tears as she looked up at Clarke. Clarke had no idea how to respond to this. Clarke had no idea what was going to happen to Madi when they got back in the country. Probably foster care, and from what Echo had told Clarke, that didn’t seem like a good fate for Madi.

“Neither did I,” Clarke heard Echo say, and Clarke glanced up to see Echo walking into the room, crouching down next to Madi’s bed to get on her eye level. “I lost my parents when I was young. So, I didn’t have a home. But, sometimes home isn’t a place. It’s a person or group of people.”

Madi opened her mouth with a confused look on her face, before glancing up at Clarke.

“Do you have a home now?” Madi finally asked Echo.

“Yeah. These people are my home. And, I think right now Clarke and Roan are your home. Maybe one day, we can all be part of your new home,” Echo replied, before glancing up at Clarke, who could only nod in response to this surprisingly emotional confession from Echo.

 

And, over time, Echo was right. Madi slowly began to think of the five of them as her new family. She already trusted Roan and Clarke.

It started with Bellamy. Clarke was trying to tell Madi a story, but kept messing up on the details. So, Bellamy stepped in, and it was clear that Madi knew he was the better storyteller. Over a few weeks, she had begun asking for his stories instead of Clarke’s. And, Clarke would just stand at the doorway, watching how animated Bellamy was while he told her stories that Clarke had heard a thousand times.

Then, it was Echo. Madi would frequently get bored, since they were pretty much stuck in the house. There were only so many books and games in the house. But, Echo kept coming up with new games to play. When Clarke asked her about them, Echo let it slip that she learned some of them in her bleaker foster homes. But, Madi loved every game, and Echo didn’t seem to get bored playing with her.

Finally, it was Murphy. That one took the longest, since children don’t always get sarcasm. But, one day, Madi caught on to it, and thought it was hilarious. Clarke tried to be more annoyed with Murphy, especially since Madi was a little too young to learn his sarcasm, but she was enamored with his sense of humor. She didn’t fully understand it, of course. But, she was like a personal laugh track for all of Murphy’s terrible jokes. And, as much as he pretended to be indifferent, Clarke could see Madi creep up on Murphy.

“She told me Murphy is her best friend,” Bellamy whispered, causing Clarke to jump. She had been standing in the doorway for a while, watching Murphy struggle to put together one of the toys that Sinclair had brought over for Madi, while Madi relaxed on the couch, pointing out every little thing Murphy was doing wrong.

“He’s her best friend? We literally tuck her into bed every night and feed her, and all he does is make bad jokes and watch movies with her,” Clarke whispered, playfully narrowing her eyes in Murphy’s direction.

“You’re mad you’re not her best friend?” Bellamy teased, as he wrapped his arms around Clarke’s waist.

“No, of course not. I’m not petty,” Clarke muttered, shaking her head. But, she was a little mad.

“Well, good. Especially since she told Roan that you’re like her mom, which is way better than being her best friend,” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke turned her head to look at him, trying to gage if he was joking or not. But, he was being sincere.

Clarke swallowed, glancing back at Madi, who was hiding one of the screws that Murphy was looking for.

Clarke loved Madi. She was such a good kid, so smart and kind… when she wasn’t messing with Murphy. If Clarke hadn’t known better, she’d say that Madi must have had a loving childhood with how she turned out.

Then, she felt Bellamy pull her backwards slightly into the hallway. “What are you doing?” Clarke whispered, as Bellamy turned her around and pushed her up against the wall.

“Trying to be cute and kiss you,” Bellamy muttered, before crashing his lips into hers. She was startled at first, but melted into it, letting her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as she could. “We’re going to all be okay, Clarke,” Bellamy reassured in a hushed voice, and Clarke let out a sigh. Of course, he could tell Clarke was getting worried again. She should know better by now than to think she could keep anything from Bellamy.

“I know,” Clarke replied, before pecking his lips quickly.

“We have time,” he whispered, as his eyes bored into hers. Clarke wasn’t sure how she had gotten so lucky to keep Bellamy, but she wasn’t about to question it. Not when the only thing that kept her sane was right here, and loved her as much as she loved him.

“Not enough,” Clarke said with a slight chuckle. He narrowed his eyes at her skeptically. “I don’t think I could ever get enough time with you. I could have a lifetime and still want more,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Cheesy.”

“Shut up. You love me,” Clarke retorted, and he pretended to think about that for a second. She playfully hit his chest, and he crashed back into her harder, almost knocking the breath out of her as he pressed his lips against hers. She whimpered into his mouth as his tongue searched eagerly for hers.

They stayed like that for a while, alone with nothing but the sound of Murphy screeching when he found the screw in the other room.

“I do, love you, I mean,” Bellamy finally replied.

“You better,” Clarke replied smugly, as Bellamy bit his lip. “I love you too.”


	18. Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I've finally gotten the last chapter up for you guys. Sorry it took longer than the other updates. Turns out, I have walking pneumonia, which has slowed me down tremendously. 
> 
> Anyways, a big thank you to all of you for reading this fic. I really hope you've liked it. I've looked forward to reading all of your comments. Rereading them has really cheered me up these days, so thank you again. I love you guys. You're wonderful.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the last chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it.

_Yellow. Like the sun._

That’s what he remembered Clarke say that first night. He should have predicted that her bedroom walls would be yellow, too. He had only come in here once or twice since they got to Abby Griffin’s house three days ago. Clarke insisted they stay in a guest room, and, even though she never said anything, Bellamy figured that she was too uncomfortable with the idea of staying in her old room.

It was an issue they circled back to again and again. Not one of them felt like their life before being captured was really theirs anymore. And, now that Bellamy was standing in the room Clarke grew up in, he was realizing what that meant for her.

None of the photos look like her anymore. She chopped her hair short not too long ago. She looks older now, even though these photos couldn’t be more than three years old.

“Who is this guy?” Madi asked, with a scrunched-up face, before turning the photo around to show Bellamy.

“I think that might be her old boyfriend, Finn,” Bellamy muttered, narrowing his eyes at the photo. God, he even looks like a douchebag.

“She had a boyfriend before you?” Madi asked, narrowing her eyes at Bellamy. Of course, Madi was confused by this. It wasn’t like any of them talked about their old lives anymore. Bellamy would talk about Octavia, of course. And, Murphy would occasionally bring up Emori. But, the others didn’t talk about their old lives, not in front of Madi.

“Yeah, and we don’t like him. He wasn’t a good boyfriend to Clarke,” Bellamy explained, as he glanced up at the walls. He could see the paintings that Clarke described to him in detail in the cell, and they were more beautiful than he had pictured they would be.  

“When is Clarke getting back?” Madi asked, as she jumped onto Clarke’s bed, fiddling with things on her nightstand.

“Any minute now,” he reassured, as he took a closer look at the books on her shelves. Clarke was off with Marcus, meeting with lawyers and Madi’s social worker to make sure that Madi got to stay with her and Bellamy. It was the biggest concern both of them had when they finally got the call that it was safe for them to come back.

Then, he heard the front door open, and Madi jumped out of Clarke’s bed excitedly before running out the door toward the stairs. Bellamy watched for a moment, taking a deep breath. He knew that Marcus had been working on this for a while, and that Clarke insisted that it was going to work out… but, he was still nervous that he was going to walk down those stairs and Clarke was going to have bad news.

Bellamy wasn’t sure he was strong enough to lose anyone else.

He felt like he was going to be sick as he slowly made his way toward the stairs. But, as soon as he saw Madi and Clarke grinning excitedly, he let out a relieved breath. They were going to be okay. And, they were all going to be together.

 

“Are we going to visit Marcus and Abby?” Madi asked, tapping Bellamy on the shoulder repeatedly. He turned around, looking at the backseat, and Madi tried to pretend she hadn’t been just tapping him repeatedly.

“There’s no one else in this car to blame it on,” Bellamy reminded with a smirk, before he turned back around, spotting Abby and Clarke in a hug. “We’ll probably visit a lot. And, maybe they’ll come visit us.”

Then, he saw Clarke start walking toward the car. He let out a sigh, and started the car, as Clarke climbed in the passenger side. “Alright, let’s get going,” Clarke said with a small smile, but Bellamy could see she had been tearing up. He grabbed her hand and pulled it up to his lips, and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, running his thumb over the top of her hand.

“Yeah. I’m just not crazy about goodbyes, that’s all,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy nodded, before pulling out of the driveway.

“How long is this drive?” Madi asked as soon as they got to the first red light.

“Five hundred hours,” Clarke teased, and Madi let out a huff. Then, Clarke’s phone started ringing. “What’s up, Murphy?” she answered, before glancing back at Madi. Bellamy looked at Madi through the rearview mirror, seeing her excitedly look at Clarke. It had only been days since they had all went their separate ways. Echo and Roan went back to Azgeda, so he could deal with things back home, and Murphy went back to Emori. But, they already missed the rest of their little family.

“Can I talk to him?” Madi asked, and Bellamy bit his lip. Then, he saw Clarke put the phone on speaker.

“I literally do not fit into any of my old pants. Like, I was in captivity for years and I somehow weigh more than I used to,” Murphy muttered, and Bellamy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Hi, Murphy!” Madi shouted.

“Hey, kiddo! Am I talking to the whole family now?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy could hear another voice in the background.

“Yeah, we’re all here. About to drive across the country to see Octavia,” Bellamy announced.

“How is Emori?” Madi asked excitedly.

“Perfect. Hold on,” Murphy said, and Bellamy could hear him fiddling with the phone. “Okay, now you’re on speaker.”

“Hi, I’m Emori,” the woman said, and Bellamy could see Madi get even more excited from the mirror.

Madi started rattling off a long list of questions for her, and Bellamy was certain she had been working on this ever since Murphy first mentioned Emori. Bellamy snuck a glance at Clarke, who was covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

 

Bellamy started to feel shaky as Clarke pulled into Miller’s neighborhood. It was a drive he had made hundreds of times in his life. He had walked it a few times, even though it was exhausting and kind of dangerous before they put those sidewalks in.

“It’s okay,” Clarke reassured, as she turned onto his street. He swallowed, nodding slightly. Clarke had an easier time seeing her family again… but, she had also seen them more recently. It had been _years_ since Bellamy even stepped foot in this town. He glanced back at Madi, who had stretched out over the whole back seat and was dead asleep.

“What if she’s mad at me?” Bellamy whispered.

“She’s not. You’ve talked to her on the phone,” Clarke reassured.

“I left.”

“You did what you thought was right. You were young and stupid. And, you came back,” Clarke reminded, and he nodded again. Then, he pointed at the house with the dented mailbox… a dent he was sort of responsible for back when he first got his license.

As she pulled into the driveway, Bellamy saw the front door open, and he swore his heart stopped beating for a moment.

“You’ve got this,” Clarke whispered, as his sister started running toward the car. Bellamy swallowed, fiddling with his seatbelt to get it undone. He barely got his door open before Octavia was on him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I’m so sorry I left,” Bellamy mumbled into her shirt, and he knew he had already told her that a thousand times, over that letter, over the phone in the last few days. But, she needed to know just how sorry he was. He had missed too much.

Octavia jerked her head back, and this was the first time Bellamy got to have a real look at her. She was crying too, but she was also smiling… which meant she wasn’t completely furious with him. “Just don’t do it again,” she replied with a smirk, and Bellamy pulled her tighter against him, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Love you, O,” he whispered.

“Love you too, big brother,” Octavia replied, and then Bellamy felt another pair of arms around him. He jerked his head up, seeing Miller latching onto his side. He glanced over at the front door, seeing David Miller waving at him, before moving to introduce himself to Clarke.

And, even though Octavia and Miller were squeezing him so tight he might stop breathing, Bellamy felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. He was finally _home._

 

“You’re kind of lucky, you know that?” Octavia teased, poking Bellamy in the side with a spatula.

“I obviously know that. I survived being abducted and held underground for three years,” Bellamy replied with a smirk, and Octavia let out a groan.

“That’s not what I was talking about. I was talking about Clarke,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is this your way of saying you like Clarke?” Bellamy asked, leaning against the sink.

“Oh, I love Clarke. She’s perfect. She doesn’t put up with your nonsense, and she’s fitting in perfectly with Monty and Jasper. I’m surprised you haven’t married her yet,” Octavia replied, and Bellamy glanced into the living room, watching Jasper tell Clarke a very animated story… and he was pretty certain it was an embarrassing story about Bellamy.

“Well, couldn’t do that before you even got to meet her,” Bellamy teased, and Octavia’s eyes lit up.

“Wait, you are actually going to?” she asked excitedly before Bellamy hushed her, looking back over his shoulder.

“Of course,” Bellamy whispered, before Octavia swatted at his arms excitedly. “Stop it, or I’m gonna start asking you more questions about your secret boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a secret boyfriend,” Octavia protested.

“His name is Lincoln and the Millers have known about him for weeks. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” Bellamy replied with a smirk, and Octavia opened her mouth to object, but she already knew she had lost this one. “You know I have to meet him.”

“It’s really early,” Octavia tried to deflect, and Bellamy had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“You’re really going to deny your poor brother who was abducted and held captive for years the opportunity to meet your boyfriend?” he teased, before Octavia hit his arm again.

“You’re gonna milk that for all its worth, aren’t you?” Octavia replied, and Bellamy nodded smugly.

 

Bellamy managed not to think about the list until the three of them moved into a house, just five minutes away from the Millers.

It was when he ran out of things to unpack… which, there wasn’t much to begin with anyways… that his mind drifted back to his list.

In the last few months in Jake Griffin’s house, Bellamy was having a harder and harder time falling asleep each night. So, while Clarke and Madi were asleep, he would start making a list of everyone he remembered from the cells. He started with the other four that were there when he was first brought in, and made it all the way to Wells.

Occasionally, another name that he had missed the first time around would pop up, and he would add it in. He told himself that when they were all safe again, he would look up all their families. He had already given this information to the FBI, so the families would know what happened to their kids. But, Bellamy wanted to at least offer them some kind of closure. Because, it didn’t seem fair that Bellamy outlived all of them… that only the five of them made it out.

Over time, he started adding everything he remembered about each person onto the list… making sure that he could list every detail in the letters that he would send to their families. If it had been Octavia in there, Bellamy would have wanted to hear from someone who knew her… to hear about what she was thinking about in her final days, to hear that she wasn’t alone when it happened. He would want some kind of closure if he ever wanted to find peace.

He stopped thinking about the list when they made it back in the country. There were too many things to occupy his thoughts. Dealing with Madi, anxiety about his sister, wondering when he would see the other three again… but now, everything was settled. He and Clarke had jobs now. Madi had just started school. There was nothing else to distract him from the memories that were haunting him.

So, for two hours every night, while Clarke and Madi tackled her math homework, Bellamy looked up a few more people on the list.

It took him a month to get to the end of the list, and each letter got harder to write.

“Can I write Wells’ letter?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy jumped, not realizing that Clarke had been in the doorway.

“Do you want to?” Bellamy asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. I mean, he was my friend. He helped me just as much as you did those first few months,” Clarke replied as she walked over to him. He held out his hand, and she took it. He pulled her toward him, letting her get settled on his lap, before he leaned up and kissed her cheek.

Then, he rubbed her back, as he watched her pick up the pen and start the letter. He didn’t read what she wrote… he couldn’t. So, he rested his head on her shoulder, listening to her breathing as she wrote it all out.

It took her a while… which was to be expected. His first few took forever. But, he found a rhythm, a pattern to writing such heartbreaking letters.

When she finally put the pen down, he heard her break into a sob. Then, she turned in his lap, before burying her face into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into his chest.

“I don’t know how you’ve written so many of those,” Clarke murmured into this shirt, as Bellamy’s hands started rubbing her back.

“Each one broke my heart. But, it had to be done,” he reminded her, before kissing the top of her head. Her head slowly popped back up, her eyes narrowed at him. He let out a sigh. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. It’s all over, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. I miss all of them, and I miss Murphy, Echo, and Roan.”

“Well, Murphy is moving up here with Emori soon, and Echo and Roan are going to visit. And, what do you mean you don’t know what to do now?” Clarke asked, cocking her head to the side slightly. He opened his mouth to explain, but he didn’t have the words for it. So, he shut his mouth, as Clarke ran her fingers through his curls. “Now, we live our lives. We appreciate the gift that we got, that the others didn’t. We aren’t forgetting them. We are moving forward, honoring them by taking care of ourselves and our little family.”

 

“He didn’t have to buy the house right next door,” Bellamy grumbled, and Clarke started chuckling sweetly.

“You said you wanted him to be close by,” Clarke teased, poking him in the side, before wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I meant like a short drive away. Not a two second walk away. Murphy could pop over at any point in time,” Bellamy muttered, looking down at Clarke who was narrowing her eyes at him.

“Does that really sound like Murphy? He is our most anti-social friend. I’m sure he’s more concerned that we’re going to be popping by all the time,” Clarke replied with a smug grin.

“I wouldn’t just pop by unannounced,” Bellamy argued.

“Madi would. And already did,” Clarke reminded him, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Madi had been talking his ear off as he unpacked the groceries from his car. “And now, Murphy is going to watch her for a few hours. So, there are benefits to having him right next door.”

“I guess. But, I’ve spent years having him all up in my business. Some space could be nice,” Bellamy argued, and Clarke threw her hands up, walking towards the bedroom door.

“Alright, I’m just saying we have a few hours without Madi in the house. Just you and me. But, if you really want to spend that time complaining about Murphy, then—“ Clarke managed to get out before Bellamy gripped her by the waist, pulling her back towards him. He started pressing kisses to her neck, as she leaned back against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered right into her ear, letting his lips graze her lobe as he spoke. “No more Murphy talk,” he teased, before running his lips back down her neck.

“That’s much better,” Clarke whispered, her arm reaching back so she could run her fingers through his hair. His hands travelled to her front, starting to unbutton her shirt. But, he was fumbling a bit too much for this to be sexy, and Clarke started giggling, before eventually helping him out. “I want that off too,” Clarke said sternly, nodding at his shirt. She didn’t need to tell him twice. So, he tugged it off, before pushing Clarke up against their bedroom door.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Bellamy murmured before kissing his way down to her clavicle. Then, he felt Clarke tug his head up, before she crashed her lips into his. He melted into her, whimpering in her mouth as soon as her lips parted.

He wasn’t sure when they last got an empty house like this. They usually had to be quiet after Madi had fallen asleep. But, an opportunity like this rarely presented itself. And, he really missed how vocal his princess could be.

So, he started undoing her jeans quickly, tugging them down, before he threw her onto the bed. He got his pants off as quickly as he could, before he climbed over her. His palms were resting on the outside of her bra, as he kissed his way up her stomach.

“I love you, Bell,” Clarke murmured while his lips were travelling up her chest. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, seeing those beautiful blue eyes looking back at him.

“I love you too, princess,” he replied with a soft smile, before leaning up to slowly press his lips into hers. He relaxed onto her, feeling her warm, soft skin under his hands. He loved her so much, and had for a very long time. She was the entire world to him, and she saved him. Clarke would always argue that Bellamy had saved her, that he took care of her… but, she had it backwards. Because, he lost hope before her… and she made him believe again. He never thought he would have any of this: a family, a love, a home… and, she gave him all of it. He couldn’t even say she made his dreams come true… because it wasn’t possible for him to imagine the heaven right here in his arms.

He pushed her hair out of her face, and let his thumb start stroking her cheek. He watched her as her eyes reopened, looking at him curiously… probably wondering why he stopped kissing her.

“Bell,” Clarke whined with a cute little grin, and Bellamy couldn’t believe he had this. And, he never wanted to let this go.

“Marry me,” he whispered, and her eyes widened immediately.

“What?”

“Let’s do it. Everything is settling down. We’re safe,” Bellamy explained excitedly, as Clarke studied him quizzically.

“Logical argument,” she teased, and Bellamy bit his lip.

“Well?” he asked.

“You haven’t asked me a question,” she replied, tugging his hair slightly between her fingers.

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered, before kissing her forehead, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly, before wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and crashing her lips into his. “I mean, you already knew I was going to say yes,” she reminded him in between kisses.

“Still wanted to hear it, princess,” he murmured, as he slid off her enough to start tugging her panties off.

His lips found her neck again, as his fingers started tracing over her folds. “You must want me a lot, Clarke,” he teased against her skin, while he rubbed her clit slowly.

“So much,” she whimpered, closing her eyes. He pressed a finger into her, and she let out a beautiful moan. He tilted his head up, before pressing his lips against hers. She started moaning into his mouth as he pressed another finger into her. She was so warm and tight around his fingers… Bellamy started to throb as he thought about what was to come.

“I love you, Clarke,” he murmured, his lips grazing hers as he spoke.

“Love you too, Bell,” Clarke replied, her lips forming a beautiful O as he crooked his fingers inside her.

“Are you really going to marry me?” he asked, and her eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Of course,” Clarke replied, before tugging him back down to meet her lips. “I’m yours, Bell.”

His lips started crashing against hers as his fingers picked up the pace. She was clenching around him, and he knew she was close.

He pressed a third finger in slowly, watching Clarke suck in an excited breath as he did. Then, she started moaning and whimpering into his mouth again, and he nearly lost himself in the feeling her loud moans echoing in his mouth.

“Come for me, Clarke,” he begged, and he could already feel her start to lose control. And, when she came undone, it was a long string of her moaning _Bell_ and _please_ repeatedly.

While her breathing evened out, Bellamy’s lips trailed down to her chest, pressing kisses to the exposed parts of her breasts. After a few moments, Clarke arched her back to reach behind her and unhook her bra. And, as soon as she tossed it to the side, Bellamy’s lips started kissing and sucking her breasts. He would never get over how beautiful and perfect they were, how breathtaking every inch of her body was.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whined, and Bellamy glanced up at her with a smirk. “I need you.”

“You need me?” he teased, before running his tongue around her nipple. Clarke started nodding rapidly, but he needed her to say it.

“I need you, inside of me,” she begged, and Bellamy wasn’t about to deny his girl. He started awkwardly tugging off his own boxers, before climbing on top of her again.

“You sure you need me?” Bellamy teased, and Clarke started pouting.

“Please,” she whispered, as he lined his cock up with her entrance. “Oh, fuck,” she murmured as he started to push himself inside her. He glanced up to see Clarke’s eyes closed as she bit her bottom lip.

“Is that what you wanted, princess?” he asked with a smug grin, and she started nodding slowly as he thrust into her. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her eyes fluttered open, looking a bit dazed as he lowered himself onto her. Then, he slowly pressed his lips into hers again, savoring the sweet whimper falling off her lips.

 He was lost in her again, having a hard time focusing on anything. She smelled too good, her lips felt too soft, she was too tight around him… she was just too Clarke, and he thought he would just melt into her. And, every time _I love you_ slipped from her lips, Bellamy became even more lost.

Because, they were both so alone not too long ago. And, here they were, getting married and a family now. And, Bellamy never imagined someone like Clarke showing up to save him.

He could feel her pussy start to clench around him, and he start thrusting even harder into her, loving the sound of his name being moaned into his ear.

And, when she came undone, Bellamy lost himself too. And, they just held each other like that for a while, panting into each other’s necks as they caught their breath.

Bellamy ended up on his back, while Clarke rested her head on his chest. His fingers were combing through her hair, as he pressed small kisses to her forehead.

“So, when do you want to get married?” Clarke asked with a small smirk.

“Ideally, right this second. But, Octavia and Madi would both throw a fit if we didn’t do something more special,” Bellamy conceded, and Clarke chuckled into his chest.

“You can’t deprive Murphy of his chance to be your best man,” Clarke teased.

“Oh, fuck. I have two people I want as my best man,” Bellamy realized, and Clarke started laughing even louder.

“Have Miller and Murphy fight to the death for it,” Clarke joked, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“We should have eloped before moving here,” he mumbled, as Clarke leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Then, Octavia would have killed you and Madi and I would have to move in with Murphy and Emori,” Clarke remarked.

“They have a nice tv,” Bellamy shrugged, before Clarke crashed her lips against his.

“But, they don’t have a Bellamy,” she whined, and he cupped her face with his hand.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, and she started giggling into his neck. He loved the sound of her laugh. He was pretty certain that was the first thing about her he fell in love with.

He could hear the faint sound of Murphy and Madi playing outside. He rested his head on top of Clarke’s, remembering that Echo and Roan were visiting next week. His whole family was going to be in one place.

“What if we do something next week? Something small, since it’s short notice. But, all of us would be here,” he suggested, and Clarke glanced up at him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I love it. I love you,” she replied, and Bellamy wasn’t sure he would ever get used to those beautiful words.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm on tumblr (@asroarke)
> 
> And, I look forward to hearing all of your thoughts!


End file.
